


a song played twice

by Recluse



Category: Free!
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Gen, M/M, Rating subject to change, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Switching Perspectives, college fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-02-21 00:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2448413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Recluse/pseuds/Recluse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had always been soft -- like the sound of someone pressing piano keys one by one, like the slow tug of violin strings. Like a sleepy afternoon on a beach near a town, like waves gentle against the sand. That was how they had always been, that was how they thought they'd stay, a calming little tune.</p><p>But then the keys had started changing under their hands, and the violins began playing faster, bows whipping across the strings in something wholly new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. beginning

_The water is alive._

It shifts, yielding to force, but never backing down. It surrounds you with its own force, pushing back without giving up. But don't be afraid. The water will accept you if you accept it. If you accept the water, the water will guide you, and you will be free.

* * *

 Tokyo is different.

It's an obvious statement, but one he can't help but think when he has the chance at an idle thought. Tokyo has lights at every moment of the day, and instead of the sound of the sea, there's the sound of traffic. There's less greenery and more steel, more people, more everything; everything seems to be going on at once, in Tokyo.

Haruka isn't sure what to make of it. He hasn't yet determined whether he doesn't care or if it all bothers him; he's certain he's not very fond of it, especially the loudness of traffic even when the night has fallen, and the loud sound of people laughing, walking around the area, the "nightlife", or so his landlord had said.

"I expect you'll be going out late too, soon enough." He had winked. "Just try not to make too much noise."

He hadn't answered him then, trying to catch the strange accent difference. It was odd to think that people in Tokyo spoke differently than people in Iwatobi, though, it made sense when he thought of kansai-ben and all that.

It was just. Different. A change.

(It wasn't like he was afraid of change so much as afraid of losing himself. He never wanted to be anyone else. He wanted to stay himself, no matter how much time passed, no matter the circumstances -- and yet, to stay himself, he has to change. It's contradictory. Frustrating, at times.)

He looks out the small window in his apartment, looking at the alley but not really looking, just staring into space. Makoto had pointed out a stray cat, the first time he had been over, but Haruka doesn't see it today.

Makoto is something else that's different, in Tokyo.

Here, it takes them at least twenty minutes by train to get to each other's apartments. While they go to the same school, it doesn't seem like it -- they rarely run into each other during the day. Makoto is busier than he is, with more classes, even though Haruka is the one who's more worn out by the end of the day by training. Sometimes he comes over, and sometimes he stays in the library, and sometimes they go out, and sometimes Haruka doesn't see him at all.

It's strange. The first few days after they had gotten settled had been odd, unsettling, with no Makoto nagging at him to get to class on time, no Makoto around during the day during his idle hours in between classes, no Makoto with him while he does drills. No Makoto at all had been extremely strange, a week or so after school had started, Makoto had texted him, "I'll be in the library", and that was all they had said to each other that day.

The first day, Makoto had gotten there before him and waited. He had looked nervous, standing in the courtyard, until Haruka had arrived, and then he'd broken out into a small smile and said, "Haru! You got here on time!"

They'd walked together until their schedules forced them to go different directions, and Makoto had said, "Thanks for walking with me", as if Haruka had done it solely for his benefit.

Now, Makoto still waits for him, or sometimes Haruka will wait, but sometimes Makoto will be talking to someone in the courtyard that Haruka doesn't know, and he seems less scared. More comfortable. He's already starting to blend into the Tokyo life, fitting himself in.

That's who Makoto is. Always able to squeeze into a space and blend with others. 

He keeps his gaze out the window, but looks up at the sky, just starting to change color as the sun starts to sink. The sky in Tokyo seems less clear than the one in Iwatobi, the colors muted in a way, but the sunset still blazes, coloring the blue with dark reds and pinks, hazy purple, and he thinks,

_The sky is alive._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to avoid this for so long but through a combination of fics that don't quite do it the way I want it, my friend egging me on, and my own feelings, the makoharu college fic has been born and is rolling out of the station. 
> 
> I have a lot of thoughts about the end of free s2, actually, but...For now, we'll just start here.


	2. matchstick

_The sky is alive._

Though it doesn't seem to change, it changes everyday. It turns more or less blue, or carries the clouds. It is always there, watching over you, over everyone, while seeming unchanging. But it changes, and so do we. When we look up again, both of us are no longer who we were before.

* * *

Tokyo is scary.

Makoto digs through a box he hasn't quite finished unpacking and sighs. Moving is really a lot more work than he had anticipated.

Tokyo. The big city. It still feels a little like a dream that he made it here at all, that he's in the midst of skyscrapers and busy streets, and away from the town he's called home for all of his life until now.

Tokyo has so many things that Iwatobi doesn't -- the city stays up until the early hours of the morning, buzzing with noise, and he's sure one of his neighbors is...A...What were they called? Otaku? Something like that. The walls here were thin, after all, and he could hear the sound of anime whenever he came back to his apartment -- then again, maybe it was just a coincidence.

(Though he's certain he saw him come back with a bag full of figurines -- but maybe those were gifts. It would be rude to judge.)

He shakes his head once to dispel his thoughts and continues digging through the box in front of him, pulling out the various knick-knacks and a few carefully wrapped picture frames.

There was so much to bring, and yet, there are still boxes back home that he couldn't take with him. It's strange, he thinks, looking around his tiny apartment, he hadn't thought he would have all that much to bring. Yet the room is filled just by the few things he had brought, a desk, a chair, a few cushions to sit on.

The setup of the room is just a rectangle, his bed in the corner by the window, a closet, his desk, his chair, a little kitchen that he has yet to use properly, and a small bathroom by the door. Fitting, for a college student, this is the kind of room that's often described in novels, after all.

It's a little exciting, a little terrifying. A weird mixture.

Slowly, he rises, putting things on his desk, his photos, a little Iwatobi-chan -- even though it looks weird, he can't part with it, that's home.

He smiles when he remembers how Haru had sat for ages, carving the same face, focused. The same Haru that had always considered things too much trouble.

The box is pushed into his closet, top shelf. He'd thrown out the others, but having at least one box, he figures, is a good idea -- they'd had spare boxes at home, just for small things, school projects, moving things around. He's just one person, so one is fine.

He sinks into his bed and lies down, staring at his ceiling.

It still doesn't feel real.

The room gets darker as the sun starts to set, and Makoto thinks he should turn on the lights, but instead he turns on his side and faces the window, looks at the orange light, orange sky.

Tokyo is scary because there's so much going on. There are so many people he won't see again, won't ever get to know -- it's nothing like Iwatobi, where he knows the people who work at the grocery, the fishermen, the people down the block. There's nothing familiar, not the sound of the sea, nor the smell of the ocean. Things he hadn't even noticed before, he notices the absence of acutely, and it makes him feel something strange in his heart, a sadness that's probably homesickness.

But there's Haru.

He closes his eyes and sighs.

Haru.

When Haru had said he had applied to his school, he had honestly been surprised. He had never imagined that Haru would apply, that Haru would get an athletic offer from them -- it had crossed his mind only as a fantasy, something he had expected not to happen from the start. He had thought Haru would go off to another school by the ocean, somewhere with a reputation, and he'd only see him once and a while, that they would keep up through texts and emails and phone calls. That he'd watch Haru's races through the TV or on livestreams, rooting for him from his Tokyo apartment.

As it is, he's glad that Haru is with him in this big city, this unfamiliar place, but he's worried, too. Haru is strong, he always has been, but he's never done well with changes, never been fond of hustle and bustle. Neither is Makoto, really, but. He had been prepared for it when he had decided to apply here.

The sky has turned purple, and the streetlights have come on. He really should turn on the lights.

Why had Haru chosen here? Was it because it was the best offer? Did he want to explore new places now that his eyes had been opened? Or was it because he was here? Was that why? Was it a mixture of the three?

Makoto turns towards the light switch, but doesn't get up.

Tokyo had been his choice because he had wanted to challenge himself. He wanted to grow up, be stronger, be someone who didn't have to always depend on someone else to help him along. He wanted to learn how to rely on himself.

But when he's with Haru, he always ends up relying on him. Haru has always let him, and Makoto is and will always be grateful for that, but--

\--but he just--

\--he gets up and switches the lights on. Closes the blinds on the window and stares at his tiny kitchen.

_Maybe I'll try to make fried rice? It's not that hard, I think._

He doesn't think about it again that night, spends the rest of the time trying to make decent fried rice and ending up with a mildly burnt mess.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a note, the chapter titles are just things I feel fit the chapter. Maybe they're foreshadowing. Maybe not. :^)


	3. pause

The cafeteria has always been noisy.

It seems like no matter what hour of the day he goes there, people mill about, chatting or studying or eating or all three, and there's always a line at every station. Haruka doesn't really like to come here, but Makoto had sent him a text, "Class was cancelled! Wanna meet for lunch at the cafeteria?", so here he was.

It's been three days since they had dinner together at a ramen stall nearby his place. It had been strange, eating together and then going in different directions, and for a moment Haruka had thought about telling Makoto to stay rather than take the train -- but then he had remembered, there was nothing that was Makoto's at his apartment. Back home, there was a drawer full of things that Makoto had 'forgotten', and likewise at Makoto's house, there was a drawer that had his spare clothes, but here, along with the distance, there's another absence: nothing physical ties them together anymore.

There's something strange about that thought. It's not one he'd usually have, but the moment that Makoto had turned towards the direction of the train station while Haruka had turned the other way -- something about it had stuck to him. Still sticks, an uncomfortable feeling that he doesn't like.

(It feels like he's not himself. That he's changing.

That's what's supposed to happen though, right? That's the idea. Changing to be himself.

Annoying.)

"Haru!"

Makoto comes into sight, hurries over to the table that Haruka's managed to get.

"Hey."

Makoto slides into the seat next to him, even though there's a seat across the table.

He smiles when Makoto smiles at him, feels like he can't help but reciprocate the gesture. It's a habit that's only started happening recently, ever since after that trip to Australia -- ever since that talk they'd had, when Makoto had looked up towards something that Haruka could barely see; he'd been overwhelmed with the urge to smile then, seeing Makoto look so excited. Free.

"Class was cancelled right when I got there! I can't believe the teacher took that long to tell everyone, honestly...I stayed up doing homework, too!"

"What class?"

"Ah, it's a math class. Basic math, but according to the course description, it's supposed to help with managing bills..."

"Sounds boring."

"It is, kind of." Makoto laughs. "It's only been a month, but it seems like less and less people show up every day. Ah, hold on. I want to get lunch..."

Haruka gives him a pointed look as he pulls out his own lunch from his backpack, and Makoto averts his eyes. "I- I really am working on learning how to cook, Haru! It's just...I'm not good at it yet."

He gives him another look. "Haru, really!"

Haruka thinks back to the times he's been in the kitchen with Makoto and can't help but ask, "Do you want me to help you?"

Makoto seems a little startled when he says that, but it's just a second that he stares before he breaks out into a warm smile.

"Eh? No, I couldn't ask you to do that...But thanks for offering. Ah, I'm going to get in line."

He says so with his eyes concentrated on the menuboard, and Haruka simply nods as he wanders towards the growing line of people. He doesn't mention the times when Makoto asked for his help before -- something tells him that Makoto would just brush them off one way or another, laugh or insist that he's trying his best to change.

Change.

Haruka follows him with his eyes, contemplating.

Makoto has never been hard to see, his height and build stick out from most people, and besides -- he's Makoto. Just that fact makes it easy for Haruka to catch sight of him, to know who he is in a crowd. It's always been like that. They've found each other in crowded shrines, grocery stores, on the beach -- it's always been like that, since the beginning.

That, at least, hasn't changed. Yet.

Tokyo is, it seems, full of changes. The city itself never stays the same, and already -- already things are different between them. There's a sense of distance, there's something that seems like a blockade between them now -- he can't just head to Makoto's, or vice versa. He can't just tell him to come over, and can't be told to stay -- can't have late accidental nights, not without larger consequences.

He doesn't hate change. He really doesn't, as much as it seems -- he can acknowledge his distaste for it, but he can accept it as a part of life, that as time goes on, things have to change eventually. And it's not all bad. Without changes, he never would have known what it was like to swim for the team. To want to. To have the friends he has now, to be experiencing the things he's experiencing -- change isn't all bad, he knows.

But, his eyes shift away from Makoto and towards nothing in particular, thinking about Makoto, and Tokyo, and changing all at the same time -- all of that gives him a weird feeling in his gut, a churning sensation followed by something thick and unpleasant.

It's natural. Of course they would change if they left Iwatobi. Especially somewhere like Tokyo, where things change every passing moment, and there's no time to catch a breath before everything has shifted.

Natural. What anyone would expect.

He turns away and unwraps his lunch when a loud, "Tachibana!" draws his attention towards the doors. Two guys he's never seen wave at Makoto, who waves back with a bright, mildly embarrassed smile.

Haruka stares as they get closer to him, start talking to him while he's in line. The girl behind him gives them a dirty look -- it seems like they want to cut in line. Makoto talks to them, laughs when they seem to start whining, and they wander over a few people behind him. He's solved the problem, it looks like.

He turns back towards his lunch and doesn't think much about it. Makoto's always been good at making friends with others, so it's not that surprising. One of them had even looked familiar, like the person Makoto sometimes talked to in the morning.

What is surprising is when the both of them come with Makoto to the table and sit down. Loudly.

He stares at Makoto, who smiles and shrugs like he's sorry, but that doesn't change the fact that two extra people have shown up.

"So, who's this?" One of them asks. Haruka looks at him and mentally assigns him as 'black hair'.

"Ah, I recognize you." The one he recognizes as Makoto's friend in the morning nods. "You're that guy from the morning, Haru, right? Tachibana usually just calls you that."

"I'm Tanaka Tadashi. Hey, do you prefer your first name or your last name?" He's the one who isn't there in the mornings.

"Nanase." He says, just as Makoto says, "Ah, Haru likes his last name better, it's Nanase."

"Wow, you guys said it same time!"

 _Noisy,_ Haruka thinks. He reminds him of someone that Makoto had been friendly with in their high school class. Brash. A little annoying, but the energy had always made everyone else in class get energetic too.

The other one, the morning one, he stares at Makoto with a frown when he realizes that Haruka doesn't know him. "Tachibana, how could you not tell him who I am?"

He's teasing him, Haruka can already tell, but Makoto gets flustered anyways. "Well, you always left before I could properly introduce you!"

"Tsk tsk," And Haruka narrows his eyes a little, because something about this person annoys him, "Udo Keita."

He gives a curt nod and turns back to his lunch. Tanaka and Udo -- their last names are fine -- seem to get a little uncomfortable.

Good. Maybe they'll let them eat lunch in peace then.

But Makoto has to speak up, has to give some kind of explanation, "Ah, Haru's just really hungry."

 _Not true,_ Haruka thinks, but the atmosphere eases.

"Makes sense, makes sense." Tanaka nods. "It smells like food in here, so I get really hungry too -- ah, but my wallet is super empty right now..."

"So why did you get the biggest pork cutlet on the menu?" 

"Oh, leave me alone, Udo!" He sinks into a chair across from Haruka, and that is when Haruka knows that it won't just be him and Makoto this whole lunch, "Tachibana, you're on my side, right? You understand, right? We gotta eat our fill! Food for the sake of learning!"

"Well, I think you could cut back a little..."

"Tachibana!" He sounds scandalized. "How could you make a comment like that! My delicate figure!"

"Just because of the expenses! I- I didn't mean to suggest anything else!"

Haruka snorts. Tanaka seems to take that as a sign, and dramatizes the whole gesture, "You liar! Your friend just laughed!"

He's going to object, but when Makoto turns with a wounded sort of look, his face does an odd thing and he smiles slightly instead. That wasn't what he had wanted to happen, but Makoto's face -- it's hard not to smile, sometimes, with him, especially nowadays.

Udo cuts in, sitting in the chair across from Makoto. "What delicate figure?"

"The one I have right now, obviously!"

Haruka half listens, trying to ignore the escalation of some argument about calories and vitamins.

Makoto leans over and whispers, "Sorry. They wouldn't listen when I said no."

And you couldn't say no again when they asked, Haruka thinks, knows that's what happened.

There's nothing really wrong with them being there, Haruka honestly thinks so, but it feels odd too.

In the past, people would assume they would eat lunch together, or Makoto would go off and eat lunch with others while Haruka ate on his own. In Iwatobi, everyone knew them as a set. Then Nagisa and Rei and Gou had become a part of them, but -- in Iwatobi, in that school, they had been known as a pair. Other people had found it hard to be with both of them at the same time, because they understood each other too well for other people.

It had annoyed him before. Now something different stirs up in him.

In Tokyo, nobody knows how long they've known each other. Nobody--

"--Haru? Are you all right?"

Makoto's face comes into vision. Haruka blinks. He hadn't realized he had stopped eating, started staring into space.

"I'm fine." He starts to eat again. "Don't worry."

Saying that never works with Makoto, but he does draw back, admittedly with a look.

Haruka points with his chopsticks. "Your food is getting cold."

"Ah, right! Thanks, Haru."

"So, how do you guys know each other? You seem super close!"

"We've been friends for a while." Makoto answers, and Haruka nods once. 

"For how long?"

"Uhm...I think since kindergarten? It's been so long that I don't really remember."

Haruka feels the same, so he nods again. He can't really remember time without Makoto, it's hazy at best, but there really isn't anything to remember. By the time things had started happening, memorable things, Makoto had already attached himself.

"Wow, that sounds nice..."

"It's fun." Makoto answers cheerfully, and Haruka wants to smile. Doesn't, because he's eating, but wants to.

The rest of the time passes with little talk, everyone focuses on eating, and Makoto waves goodbye when they split from the hallway.

Haruka watches for just a moment as Makoto slowly gets further and further away, mixing into the crowd in the hall.

He never disappears in it, not until he turns the corner and Haruka can't see him anymore. 


	4. magic

He has three papers due for his major classes and one other assignment from his more general classes within the next week, and on top of all of that, he's running late. Again.

It's times like now that he wishes that he could have lived with Haru. His place is closer to the school, but, Makoto sighs deeply, it's also an area heavily reserved for scholarship students, which Haru is, and Makoto is not. Most of the people there were other people on sports or academic scholarships, and there were even a few international exchange students, he'd visited a few times and heard what he was certain was some form of English.

The point, however, was that it was closer to the school. He had to get on the train and ride for at least thirty minutes, Haru only had to do ten. He could even run there, if he really had to, though it'd be a long run.

Speaking of long, the train is going to come in five minutes, the station is ten minutes away, and he hasn't even left his room.

_It's going to be a long day._

* * *

"Yo, Tachibana! You're late!"

"Sorry, sorry! I almost missed the train." _That was late anyways._

"Tsk! And you seemed so responsible...! You've fooled me for the last time, Tachibana!"

"Tadashi-san, please..."

"Ugh, and now you're adding 'san' to my name!" He shakes his head. "This is so disappointing!"

"Shut up, you were late too."

"U-Udo! Why are you still outside?"

Udo greets him with a nod that Makoto returns, grateful. Tanaka is fun, but he sweeps everyone along at a pace that Makoto can't always follow.

(And first name basis isn't a big deal, but...It's sort of awkward when he always calls him 'Tachibana', even though Tanaka asked to be called by his first name. It's a little confusing. Makoto has it marked as a possible city-person thing, but it's probably just a Tanaka sort of thing.)

"I think this is everyone who could make it." Udo gives him a little grin. "You're the last one, Tachibana."

Tanaka nods. "Yeah, so let's hurry! Come on man!"

Makoto lets himself be pushed along, half laughing, giving a passing glance to the gymnasium as he's forced forward. It's the weekend, so Haru probably has practice, but for how long, he doesn't know.

_Well, knowing Haru, he might have stayed afterwords just to swim more._

"Tachibana?"

"Hm? Ah, what is it?"

"You have your materials, right?"

He nods. "Yeah, don't worry! I made sure to bring them."

"That's good." Udo pats him on the shoulder, "This idiot over here forgot his."

"I didn't forget ALL of them, geesh! You're so mean to me, Udo."

"It's because I've known you for so long. Deal with it."

"Eh?" Makoto cuts in, curious. "How long have you two known each other?"

"Ehhh, since...High school, yeah?"

"High school." Udo nods. "Though we really only started talking in second year."

"Because of the school festival, right?"

"Don't remind me."

A grin creeps up on Tanaka's face. "It was so funny, Tachibana. You have to imagine it. A smaller version of Udo, falling onto a whole bunch of stage props--"

"--That you accidentally shoved me into--"

"--And knocking every single thing over, right at an important scene of the play--"

"--Enough." Udo thwacks him hard, and Tanaka winces. Makoto winces along, but he's chucking too. There's something familiar about them, the way they get along. It kind of reminds him of Nagisa and Rei sometimes, Tanaka's upbeat personality to Udo's more down-to-earth. It's nice, the familiarity.

At the library table, one of his other partners -- Keiko Fujioka is her name, he thinks? -- is typing, and Makoto feels a little guilty. The other girl, Yuka Ito, couldn't make it, and Tanaka and Udo had come out to meet him, leaving her alone.

"Erm, hello, Fujioka-san."

"Tachibana-kun." She says it without looking at him, and Makoto feels again that it's going to be a long day.

(Fujioka's curtness isn't so bad sometimes, indeed, sometimes it reminds him of Haru at points, but. It's not always easy to deal with, and it's hard to find things to talk to her about without feeling like he's bothering her. She always has that feeling like Haru used to have around other people.)

_Well, better make the best of it then._

"Have you already started the presentation?"

"Just my part." She adjusts her glasses. "I'll send it to you all when I finish."

"Okay." Makoto pulls his materials out and sets them on the table, sitting in a chair across from her. "I'll get my parts together so I can type them later."

"You didn't bring your laptop?"

"A-Ah, I did!" He pulls it out of his backpack.

"But you didn't sort your materials yet?"

"Erm..." Makoto laughs awkwardly, unsure of how to respond. It's not like he wasn't busy, but the strictness of her voice makes him feel bad about not doing it earlier. He did have time, but he hadn't wanted to work yesterday, so he had spent a few hours reading instead.

Tanaka cuts in and saves him though. "Aw, stop being mean to Tachibana, Fuji-chan..."

She looks up at Tanaka immediately. "Don't call me that."

"You have to stop doing that."

"Aw. I was just trying to make it cute."

"You're going to get slapped one day."

"Udo! Don't jinx me!"

"Be quiet in a library."

Makoto looks down at his papers and quietly sighs.

* * *

He's the last to leave the library out of the group, and he's exhausted. Tanaka had been relentless, determined to get Fujioka to talk more, while Fujioka had responded with stony silence. Udo had tried for a while to stop him, but when he'd been unsuccessful, he'd drawn back to do his own work, asking a question here and there. And so Makoto had been busy trying to sort his information while making sure Fujioka didn't storm out of the library in frustration.

Eventually Tanaka had given up, but the damage had been done. And she looked like she despised his work habits, whenever Tanaka would pause, or say he was getting a snack, or a drink, she had glared murder at him.

Group projects weren't always this stressful, Makoto is absolutely sure of that. But then again, nearly everyone knew each other in Iwatobi at least a little bit, so there was never anything like what Tanaka had been doing. And Haru had almost always been with him.

He takes a step out the door, then another, glancing again at the gymnasium.

He really wants to see Haru, all of a sudden. He hasn't seen him since that time they ate lunch together, which was really only a few days ago, but it feels weird, not to see Haru every day. He'd thought the feeling would fade after a week or two, but even now, even after a month or so, he still can't get used to the feeling. It's an amplified version of what he'd felt when he had been studying for his exams in high school, and even then, he'd been comforted by the thought that Haru had been only a set of stairs away, and that if he really wanted to, he could see him and stay the night without any issues. Now though, even if he were to show up at Haru's door, there'd be a lot of problems, like clothes, and where he would sleep, and when he'd take the train back to his place, all kinds of things...

...Well, he shouldn't be thinking like this anyways. He had came here to learn to rely on himself, right? He shouldn't be thinking about relying on Haru just when it gets difficult.

And besides, he doesn't want to burden Haru too much either. Haru doesn't say it in so many words, but Makoto can see he's taking swimming seriously, even if he still doesn't cut out how much mackerel he eats. He looks worn down sometimes, tired, when they meet, and Makoto doesn't want to add to that if he can help it.

So he walks out the gate with a little sigh and wonders where he should stop for dinner. He's failed too many times recently, and he really doesn't want to deal with scraping eggs off of a pan tonight.

"Makoto?"

He turns at his name, eyes wide with recognition. "Haru!"

He honestly hadn't expected to see him, and by the looks of it, Haru hadn't expected to see him either.

"...What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I had a group meeting...I have a project for class. We met in the library." He hurries back towards Haru, he's not far away, but he wants to be closer. "Did you have practice? It lasted until now? It's kind of late..."

"...We did. I stayed behind."

Makoto chuckles. "To swim more?"

"Without the coaches nagging me." Haru mutters, and Makoto can see that he's had a difficult day too.

Warmth and relief floods him. Just when he'd wanted to see him, he'd appeared, almost like magic. Seeing Haru really does make him feel better, like everything will be fine in the end.

"Do you want to get dinner then? I was just wondering what to eat."

"Sure."

They start walking towards the station, looking around at the restaurants on the way.

Makoto smiles. At the very least, they can take the same train until Haru's stop too, so he'll get to be with him for a little longer after dinner.

"What do you think would be good?"

"Mackerel."

"Eh, typical Haru I guess..."

Haru huffs, turning his head, and Makoto chuckles.

"You don't have to eat it."

"I don't mind. I haven't had any mackerel in a while anyways." He looks around, trying to make sense of all the lights and signs, a multitude of colorful displays. Street vendors, restaurants, numerous signs, even some people handing out flyers.

Haru glances at him.

"Are you...Eating properly?"

"Hm? O-Of course!"

He can't look him straight in the eye when he says it, but he's not lying either. Sure, he still can't cook very well, or at all really, but he's trying! And he is eating! Just...Carefully. Groceries are expensive, but so are meals from restaurants.

A part time job would really be a good idea. Maybe at the convenience store nearby or something...

Haru keeps staring at him, and as he glances away, guilt creeping up, a sign catches his eye.

"Ah, uhm, there's a restaurant over there that looks like they have mackerel..." He points, and Haru stares at him for a little longer before moving towards the direction he's pointing for a closer look. A sigh of relief escapes him.

"Do they have it?" He asks, taking a closer step to the window display.

"Yeah." Haru nods, focusing on the menu for a moment before going in, checking to make sure that Makoto is following.

It's a small restaurant, not busy but not empty either, and they get a booth more on the inside, seated near the sushi bar and an aquarium. Makoto stares at the fish swimming around, goldfish and some other that he can't name, the sign taped on in the corner that says, "Please don't tap the glass".

A waitress comes to hand them their menus before flitting away towards the kitchen, saying she'll bring water. Makoto figures he might as well open the menu and see what else they have besides mackerel. Haru was bound to get it, but maybe something else would catch his eye. If not, he'd get the mackerel too. It had been a while since he'd had any, the last time he could remember was in Haru's apartment, and that had been some time ago. 

_Like I could cook something like mackerel...I still can't get eggs right._

"Makoto."

"Hm?"

"What have you been eating this past week?"

He drops the menu, startled. He hadn't expected Haru to keep thinking about whether he was eating right or not, and the guilt creeps up again as he says, "What? I- Are you still worried about that? Geez, I told you Haru, I'm eating fine! Regular food!" He pauses, then adds, "I've been practicing a lot, so I'm getting better at cooking."

"...If you say so."

Makoto smiles. "Don't worry, okay?"

Haru doesn't look like he buys it at all, but he doesn't ask any further, so Makoto isn't really lying. Still, he feels a little guilty. He knows what Haru is really asking, and while he appreciates his concern, cooking is something he's going to work on by himself from now on. He has to learn it eventually anyways, there's no way he can ask Haru for help all the time.

(Something in him unsettles. Right. They may have made it this far together, but eventually they do have to split up. There's no way they could stay together forever.

He'd thought he'd made peace with that idea when he'd decided to go to Tokyo, but that had been before Haru had decided to come here too.

His gut drops a little. He ignores it.)

"I should be asking you that, Haru." He leans a tiny bit forward across the table, "I bet you're still eating too much mackerel, even though you're supposed to follow the diet they gave you!"

"Am not." Haru retorts with a huff, just as the waitress comes back to them. "As long as I eat other things too, they don't care."

Makoto finds that highly unlikely, but he laughs nonetheless. It's a very Haru-like answer.

Haru orders the grilled mackerel set. Makoto orders the same, but with miso instead of salt, and then looks pointedly at Haru when the waitress turns away.

"...Shut up."

He laughs.

They talk about trivial things, what's been going on in the few days they haven't seen each other, about things they haven't spoken about in a while, Nagisa and Rei and Rin, the people they've met here, the differences from Iwatobi and Tokyo, the contrast between the sky here and there, the things missing. It's their first real conversation in a long time, maybe ever since the first week, the first conversation where school takes a backburner to everything else, sitting down and enjoying each other's company without worrying about anything, an easy comfort. This reminds him of home, settles a deep warmth into him, something that he hadn't noticed was missing, cut by the Tokyo chill. This, Haru's gentle smile and quiet words, the peaceful atmosphere that makes him feel as if they're the only ones in the world -- he'd missed this deeply, and resolves in the back of his mind to make more time to spend with Haru.

He hadn't realized how much he needed this, how much he wanted this time, this familiarity. It's not just homesickness, though that's a part of it, he can just honestly say -- being with Haru makes him feel better. It always has. Nobody has quite the effect Haru has, putting him at ease with only a few words.

Though, it's only if Haru wants to that he'll spend time with him. He doesn't want to bother him, and he doesn't want to be overbearing. If Haru needs space, or doesn't want to hang out with him -- he'll deal with it.

(It'll be practice for when they really have to go their separate ways, he guesses. His gut drops a little more.)

"What are you thinking about?"

"Ha? Oh, sorry Haru! I was just thinking that this is nice." He smiles. "We haven't talked like this in a while."

"Mm."

Haru smiles, just a small one that disappears when the waitress walks by. He's been doing that a lot lately, Haru. It relieves Makoto a little bit every time he sees it, compared to the past, Haru is all smiles now. It's nice to see that nowadays, Haru smiles more and more, just little ones, but smiles nonetheless, a sign that he's really happy.

They finish and pay and walk to the station with relative ease, chatting about little things until their conversation dwindles into comfortable silence, stepping side by side to the train station.

The ride is calm, he's warm and full, he feels the urge to sleep hit him.

He tries not to nod off, but...

_Only until Haru's stop..._

* * *

Haru shakes him awake.

"Makoto. This is your stop."

"Hm...?"

He rubs his eyes, tries to bring some life back into his slack jaw, and the sits upright when Haru's words register.

"My stop?! Eh, ah--"

"Hurry up." Haru says, and Makoto rushes, grabs his things and hops out of the train before realizing that Haru has come with him.

"Ah, Haru? Isn't your stop before mine though?"

"You were sleeping." He answers, just as the doors close.

"You could have woken me up!" He wails, guilt riding over him.

Haru shrugs, adjusts his bag and starts walking away from the station.

"Eh, Haru--" _He should be getting on the next train back, where is he going?!_

"--I'll just take the train back in the morning."

"But it's not too late--" _The last train runs back at two, I think?_

"Makoto," He stops, turns, giving him a look, "I'm tired."

It takes him a few seconds to understand, but when he does, a grin breaks out involuntarily.

"...Do you want to stay over?"

Haru simply turns and starts walking again, and Makoto hurries to catch up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wahh, sorry it's been so long. ;(._.) I've been busy with college and life in general, but holiday break kinda gave me some time. 
> 
> Really, they're going to get to the feelings eventually. We're climbing the mountain slowly to peak, promise.


	5. space

To be honest, he's not sure what compelled him to stay.

He knows he could have woken Makoto up. He knows that it's going to be difficult in the morning because none of his own clothes are at Makoto's -- he can wear his shirts but his pants never fit right, and it'll feel weird to wear the same clothes over again -- and there's the walk to the train, and tomorrow is one of his few days off from morning practice, and he had planned to spend it sleeping and bathing and relaxing, taking in as much peace and quiet as he could before he had to go back outside.

(Relative quiet. He was beginning to adjust to the hustle and bustle and noise of Tokyo, already, the sound of cars running by had become familiar to him.

The ocean was better. Is better, and the smell too.)

But.

Something about how tired Makoto looked before falling asleep, how his head had bent forward all the while, something about it had sent a ripple of memories through Haruka of similar train rides in Iwatobi. It had caught him off guard when he had moved towards Makoto to wake him up, and by the time he had returned to himself, the doors to his station were closing.

He grips the shoulder strap of his bag a little tighter, near his heart. He couldn't even name the weird sensation that had crossed through him. It wasn't quite like homesickness was -- he hadn't missed Iwatobi itself -- nor was it like the feeling he got when memories surfaced. It was something unique that he hadn't experienced much, maybe not at all, an uncomfortable tightness and a warmth that was almost like fondness -- almost. A little more biting, a little more fierce, as if it were trying to goad him on -- to what, he didn't know.

Thinking on it now, it vaguely reminds him of Rin. All emotions and pushy to a fault, rough on the edges.

But he doesn't get this with Rin, this particular feeling. He feels other things -- usually exasperated, but sometimes fond -- a whole range of emotions, but the feeling in that particular moment on the train, that had been something else entirely.

"We're here!" Makoto says, and Haruka blinks. Without him noticing it, Makoto's gotten in the lead, and they've already reached his apartment.

"We haven't done this in a while." Makoto says while rummaging around his backpack, probably for his keys. Haruka nods.

"Yeah."

"The last time, it was at your apartment too-- Ah! Wait a minute!" The key is already in the lock, but Makoto turns, back to the door, still holding onto the key behind him. "Don't come in yet!"

Haruka gives him a look. Makoto gives him one back, and Haruka turns his head with a huff that Makoto takes as concession, giving him a sunny smile before entering in a rush, closing the door behind him.

Messy. Haruka bets, Makoto's never been good at keeping his room clean for long. Not that it matters, since Haruka's seen it in every state it's ever been in. Why Makoto chose now to care is beyond him. It doesn't really matter though, the night is mild, and the weather is starting to heat up, it's not much of a bother that he has to wait.

The door opens, and behind Makoto, there are tell-tale signs of a hastily cleaned room. "Okay, come in now! Welcome hom-- I mean, welcome to my apartment!"

Haruka nods, catching his mis-speak and almost responding in turn. There really isn't a response for this situation, it's Makoto's, but it's not Makoto's house -- it's his apartment. It's different, Haruka's only been here or twice at most; Makoto had come over to his place almost all of the few times that they had planned these, months ago, when they'd first moved in and then a few weeks after that, before school had started.

So he doesn't say anything, just wanders into the room. It's like his own, the arrangement of things is a little different, but the space seems to be about the same. Possibly smaller? Though it could just be compared to Makoto, it feels like it.

"Er, do you want a drink or something?"

He's using the electric kettle that his mom gave him, and Haruka makes a note to tell her when she calls -- she calls him often, asks him how he is, how Makoto is, how Tokyo is like, tells him about Ren and Ran and Iwatobi.

(They've always been good to him -- he's realized it only recently, but they've cared for him for a long time, have been kind to him, have taken him in without a single word.)

"Sure." He takes off his bag and sits at the edge of the bed.

He watches Makoto pull out two mugs from his cabinet -- one is familiar, one is new, probably when his mom took him shopping -- feels calm, almost drowsy. But he has to see something first.

Silently, he walks until he reaches the door adjacent to the front door, opening it slowly. It makes a pretty loud sound though, and Makoto turns quick, cups in hand.

"You're going to take a bath right now?!"

Ignoring Makoto's indignation, he examines the bath, then sheds his clothes until only his jammers are on. A second pair, of course. The wet ones are in his bag.

"Haru...!"

"Just bring the cups in here." He turns on the bath. The water quality isn't bad, maybe a little too hot, but better than too cold.

Nope, nevermind. It turns icy under his hand, then hot again, then icy. Unusual.

Still, it fills the bath, and there's steam, so he steps in. He can feel Makoto's incredulous gaze on his back.

Heavenly. A little hotter than he'd expected, but it's a bath, and he needs it -- really needs it, his muscles are aching now, and he reclines, head against the wall. It's not a very big bath, maybe a little smaller than the one at his apartment, but the water feels nicer here.

Makoto comes in with a huff. Haruka is sure he's brought the cups in though, and sure enough, two mugs are in Makoto's hands when he opens his eyes to check.

"Geez, Haru." Makoto sets one of the cups on the edge of the bath and the other on the sink counter before sitting on the toilet. "Couldn't you have waited until after I put the drinks on the table?"

"No." He closes his eyes again, and there's the sound of Makoto's sigh and a drip from the faucet.

"Are you going to actually wash?"

"I will."

"You can use whatever's here then, but I don't have too much."

"It'll be enough."

There's a sound like Makoto getting up, and Haruka turns his head towards him, lazily opening his eyes.

"You can stay."

"What?"

"For a while. I'll wash later."

Makoto looks a little confused, and Haruka shifts to look at him so he can understand better. He moves a little like he can't decide, then takes another look at Haruka before sitting down again. 

Haruka reclines back into the bath, satisfied.

There's a silence, not that Haruka minds, but then Makoto starts talking about his day. It's odd, but when they had met at school and when they had went to that restaurant (their mackerel was good and he'll have to go again, maybe), they hadn't talked about it much, had talked about other things, simple things, less stressful things. Makoto tells him about his group project, and about those two that Haruka had met before, Udo and Tanaka, along with some girl.

"Sounds annoying." He says when Makoto brings up Tanaka's chatterbox habit, and Makoto laughs, though he scolds him afterwords.

Haruka tells him, after a little bit of coaxing, about how practice had dragged on and the coaches had seemed extra loud today, how one had just kept rattling on about his form, telling him that if he was off by even a millimeter, he'd lose precious seconds. Most days it wouldn't have bothered him much, but the coach had told him off for being loose, and then told him off for being too rigid, and he'd been frustrated enough to stay afterwords to practice more.

Makoto listens, is understanding, and the words come without Haruka realizing just how many there are. Talking this much about things like this still feels foreign to him, it always has been, but with Makoto it's -- it's still strange, but, Makoto makes it not as strange.

(Is this a part of his changing too? Probably. This kind of change doesn't feel quite as unsettling as the other ones do though. This change reminds him, in a way, of Makoto, the way he goes on and on about things that Haruka has never considered all that important, but has listened to nonetheless.

Maybe they had been important though, and he just hadn't realized. Or maybe the content wasn't what was important.

He's never thought like this before, but then again, he is trying to change. Slowly, changing himself at his own pace.

He doesn't mind it much, this time.)

Haruka feels like he's at Makoto's real house and that Makoto's just been forced to take a shower with him, something that inevitably turns into Haruka sitting in the bath and Makoto nagging at him to hurry up, that Ren and Ran and his parents have to shower too.

(There is no homesickness. When Makoto is around, it never appears.)

Makoto eventually gets up, saying he wants to change into something more comfortable, and he tells Haruka twice where everything is before Haruka shoos him out, keeping the mug and taking a sip.

It's cooled off some, but it's not so bad cold either, given that the bath is still warm. Hours could be spent here, and he considers sitting in the bath until the water turns cold.

He would if it was his house. Would try it at Makoto's house if everyone else had showered already, but. Here in Tokyo, it doesn't seem like as good an idea. It's not that big, and there's that strange thing the water spout does, and Makoto probably will nag him to get out. As usual.

(If he's being honest, he also thinks that he won't see as much of Makoto if he stays in the bath for that long. This is...Rarer now, and he hadn't noticed it in Iwatobi, but these times together fill him with warmth, a good kind. A familiar yet unfamiliar fondness, it reminds him of being with Nagisa and Rei and Makoto in highschool, being in Makoto's house with the twins, playing video games.

He hadn't noticed this before. Or rather, it had been more constant, consistent -- he hadn't realized that it was missing.)

So. Out of the bath he goes, after washing as well as he can with the random group of things Makoto has. It's clear that his mom pressed some soaps on him before they had left; when he picks up a particular bar of something, there's a smell like wood and something dusty, he wrinkles his nose at it. By the look of it, Makoto has barely touched it, and he understands why. He puts it back and grabs a much more worn looking bar, one without anything but the smell of soap.

He's refreshed when he leaves the bath, empty mug in hand, a towel he found on the rack around his hips, his second pair of jammers in the other hand.

Makoto is sitting at his desk, laptop open, looking out the window, motionless, like he's unaware that Haruka come out of the bathroom. Haruka's eyes follow his out into the street, where the lights reach all the way into the night, and the blackness fades into it, not the other way around. The look on his face is one of his thoughtful ones, but it's one that Haruka doesn't recognize well.

(There's a prickle of annoyance that taps sharply against his chest. He knows every face Makoto has, at the least, he's sure that he's seen them all once, and with Makoto, once is enough.

He shakes it off. Nonsense, this kind of feeling.)

Before he can ask what he's thinking about, Makoto notices him.

"Haru! Here, clothes. Geez...Taking a bath right away is just like you, but..."

He says nothing back, just turns around so he's not facing Makoto and gets dressed.

"Ah, sorry, but all I have are boxers...Erm."

He can guess the awkward look on his face. "It's fine."

The sweatpants pool around the ankles, he has to tug on the drawstrings and the shirt is oversized, but it's comfortable. The whole of it is familiar, except for the looseness of his underwear, but there isn't much he can do about that. It really is a pain, not living nearby.

When he turns back around, Makoto is at his desk again, except this time he's wearing his glasses and staring at his laptop, reading something. Haruka turns towards the kitchen, mug in hand, and pours himself a cup. There's an odd feeling that comes as he pours, as if he's aware of what and where everything is here, even though he's never really been here for long. It's not even true, the evidence is in his hand, a cup he's never seen, an electric kettle that's relatively new.

Too many odd feelings for one day. He takes a sip from his cup as he turns around to lean against the counter, taking in the room from a different angle. It really is exactly like his own apartment, just arranged in a different way, and with more things strewn around. A couple of books that aren't stacked, photos carefully taped onto the wall, a cork-board with several flyers pinned to it-- simple things that make it seem more alive. He spots an Iwatobi-chan figure at Makoto's desk and smiles a bit. Makoto's always been one for mementos, objects to keep a memory -- of course he'd keep one, even if he found them strange.

His glance falls towards Makoto. Something on his laptop has his attention, and by the way he's looking at it, Haruka is certain it's something for school.

That's a little new too, Makoto's sudden dedication to studying. He'd been diligent before, enough to get decent grades, but, Haruka had noticed, when he'd started studying for the entrance exams, he'd gotten even more dedicated. That hadn't been as surprising though, given how difficult the entrance exam was -- even as a student offered a sports scholarship, they had still wanted him to take one as well. It had been difficult, almost ridiculously so -- studying so hard in anything other than swimming had been an odd and unpleasant experience. He'd never studied like that before for anything.

(Briefly, he remembers how it had been uncomfortable to watch Makoto study so much, before he had made any concrete decisions. When he had still been floating in open water, watching Makoto follow a firm path had made him feel. Unusual. 

There was no way to explain it. He had just felt, deep within him, a disturbance, watching Makoto study for some far off place they'd never been. Where he'd never been. Even though he had wanted his success, had genuinely wanted him to make it, there had also been that thick feeling that would sometimes pool in his gut, like that night, ice on his skin, cold seeping into his bones.)

Makoto breaks his train of thought when he turns and apologizes, sheepish, sorry for getting engrossed in the article he was reading. The memory dissolves into foam, taking the subdued feeling away.

(He's here now. He chose this, to be in this noisy and fast-paced place. Makoto wasn't the only one with solid ground under his feet.

He hadn't disappeared.)

Later, curled into Makoto's small bed(after a mild argument over who would sleep on the floor that had ended up going Makoto's way, as always, much to his chagrin), Haruka watches the lights that flicker and rise, disappear in between the curtains and the window ledge.

In Tokyo, there's no such thing as the dark. Not like Iwatobi's dark anyways, where sometimes there would be no light at all, just the sounds of the ocean and wind against the beach. In Tokyo, the dark is constantly permeated by something, groups of people making noise, a car rushing by, the flicker of streetlights. It usually bothers him a little when he tries to sleep, the lights and the noise, but it seems quieter here in Makoto's apartment. There's only the sound of Makoto's breathing, the weight of his blankets, and the lights that flicker between the curtain and the ledge, a millimeter's space.

He falls asleep to the sound of even breaths, curled, content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello and hoo boy it's been a while I'm sorry  
> I thought winter break would give me more time but I forgot that holiday season is super busy, actually  
> Every time I think to myself, 'oh, I can finally get to the feelings part', I am proven wrong, by myself, which, believe me, I want to get there just as much as everyone else I don't know why I am letting myself drag it out in this way, I just want to cover all the bases but every time I do I think of more things I want to cover and. I promise. We will get there  
> Thanks!


	6. time

His back hurts when he wakes up and he stretches, trying to ease the pain. It's nothing more than the after-effect of sleeping on a hard wooden floor, he knows -- even though he did have a comforter in between him and the floor, it hadn't been enough, it seems.

(It almost reminds him of the ache he'd sometimes had after a particularly hard swim, a sweeping sensation of nostalgia.)

He stretches with a sleepy noise, half awake, half asleep. It's only when he hears something moving in his bed that he remembers why he's sleeping on the floor in the first place.

_That's right...Haru stayed over last night._

The thought makes him smile, and he takes care to get up as quietly as possible. Instead though, he ends up banging his foot against the corner of his low, close to the ground table.

"Ouch..." He winces as he rises, shuffles slowly towards the kitchenette. For a quick second he glances back at Haru, to see if he's woken him up, but it seems like he's still asleep, curled towards the window.

That sleeping posture always reminds Makoto of cats, and he snickers a little before going back to the kitchen. Haru's been offended before at the comparison, whether mild or blatant, remembering makes him snicker again as he fills the electric kettle with water.

Just as he's placed it down and flipped the switch, something touches his shoulder and he nearly jumps. There had been a spider already, and some other strange bug, and he'd yet to see a cockroach, but he wouldn't be surprised -- ah, but, it's just Haru. He breathes, trying to relax. There's no bug.

"H-Haru! Good morning! Geez, you surprised me..."

"Morning." He shuffles towards his fridge right after saying that, and frowns when he opens the door.

"...No mackerel." The look he sends him is absolutely accusatory.

"Haru..." He keeps staring, as if asking him for an explanation why there is no mackerel in his fridge, and Makoto sighs. A part of him had been anticipating this right from the moment Haru had touched the fridge, and another part of him had been hoping that Haru wouldn't say anything about mackerel at all.

He should have known.

"Ah, you know, it's kind of expensive...?" Haru continues to give him the look. "And besides, I can't eat mackerel everyday!"

Privately, he thinks that no one can except for Haru, but if he says that, Haru will just give him a look of both pity and disbelief.

"There's not much in here." A different accusatory look, and Makoto winces again.

"I just haven't gone grocery shopping recently!" He's a little too defensive, he knows and Haru knows, they lock eyes and Makoto prepares himself for a silent scolding, but -- all Haru does is close the door.

"...Should we go then?"

"Huh?" The response catches him off guard. "Uhm- Sure?"

"Where is it?"

"What?"

Ah, there's another look, he's exasperated. "The grocery store."

"O-oh! It's, uhm, hold on!" He turns off the kettle, flustered. "Are- Are we going right now?"

"...I want mackerel. You don't have any." He frowns, glancing around. "...Do you even have rice?"

"I do!" The doubt on Haru's face turns him indignant, "It's in the cupboard!"

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Shush." He huffs, can tell Haru is amused now, "I'll start making it now so it'll be done when we get back."

Haru nods, a little smile playing on his lips but not quite showing itself, and Makoto turns to dig through the cupboard. He finds the bag near the bottom shelf, partially opened, a few stray grains scattered around it. Carefully, he scoops out a few cups into the rice cooker tin. Haru watches him, just observing, but Makoto feels successful anyways when Haru smiles after he's washed the rice.

"At least you remembered to wash it."

"Haru..."

It takes longer than either of them had anticipated for them to be ready to go out -- none of Haru's clothes were at his place, after all. He'd even ended up having to wear the same pair of pants he had worn yesterday after trying on Makoto's smallest pair without luck. The shirt he was wearing was Makoto's though, one of the smaller ones that he always felt sort of self-conscious in. It suited Haru more, in his opinion, fit his body better.

"...I'll bring clothes next time."

When Haru says that, he's surprised just a little, but nods.

"Yep, that'd be good. I should do that next time too."

They grin at each other, well, Makoto grins and Haru smiles. There's the faint sound of his neighbor's shows in the background.

_This is nice_ , he thinks as they walk. He talks, but not of anything important, just little things about the area. Haru keeps looking around. It's mostly apartments until the small convenience store, and a little past that is the shopping center, though it's tiny, nothing more than an electronics shop, a grocery, a cafe or two, and a barber.

"It's quieter here." Haru says, and Makoto nods.

"I guess so? Your place is closer to the city, after all."

Haru doesn't answer, just looks around again, taking it in. Thinking back, they hadn't really looked around his area before, they had gone around Haru's place, smack in the midst of the city, and they had gone around the university, but not here. Here was the suburbs, after all, and the majority of the things they had come to Tokyo for fell closer to Haru. Which was kind of funny, given that he had applied to Tokyo schools after Makoto had decided.

It would have been nice, he thinks, to have roomed together, have shared a small apartment, but. Haru had a scholarship, and it was more convenient for him to live where they had offered him. Though, back when it had been up in the air, he had offered to live together.

(A part of him is kind of...Mixed on that, thinking about it now. Living with Haru would have been great, but would it have been the change that he was looking for? Would anything have really changed if Haru was always there to spoil him in the end?

He takes a breath, trying to chase the thoughts away. There isn't really any point to looking at the what-ifs, he knows that. Living with Haru could have gone so many directions, he can't even imagine them all. Though, he thinks wryly of yesterday, it would have been nice if they could have both lived where Haru was living now.

Even as he thinks it's silly to keep wondering, he looks at Haru from the corner of his eye and wonders, wonders at the endless possibilities.

...He doesn't know how to explain the feeling that goes through him, like a knot, almost.)

* * *

"I can't believe you bought so much mackerel!"

"I'll eat it."

"All of it?"

Haru glares at him, but he holds his ground, gesturing to the groceries on the table. "There's four packs Haru! Four!"

"...Freeze them. Or eat them."

"I can't eat mackeral for every meal!"

"Yes you can." He says it with such finality that Makoto just sighs deeply, defeated. Haru's always like this, he can't help but think, but, he guesses it's just a part of Haru's personality. Makoto isn't sure where his love of mackerel even came from, but maybe it was just because he had been born by the sea? But then, so had he, but he wasn't obsessed with mackerel...Or any fish in particular.

Haru's staring at him. "What is it?"

"Come here."

Confused, he obeys, moving closer to Haru. "What is it?"

"Cut these."

Carrots, an onion...Garlic? How can he cut garlic?

_It's kind of tiny, isn't it?_

"...I taught you how already, right?"

"Eh--" He catches on. "Haru, I told you, I--"

Haru cuts him off. "Is fried rice okay?"

"Huh? Yeah--"

"Good." He turns back to the pan on the stove. "...I'll show you."

Makoto looks at him, pauses, and then smiles gently, feeling warm.

(People used to tell him Haru was cold, and while they weren't necessarily wrong, Haru wasn't always like that. It took time, and he needed his space, but in the end, Haru was one of the kindest people he'd ever met. He always knew, and always tried to help, in his own way.

Something deep in his head throbs painfully. He was always spoiled by Haru, in the end.)

"Okay. Teach me again, please!"

Haru nods, focused on the stove. "Cut those. Don't cut yourself."

"Yes!"

He goes slowly, careful to curl his fingers, a cat's paw.

* * *

Distantly, there's the sound of conversation through his window, from his wall, the sound of the show (shows? Honestly, he isn't sure) his neighbor watches regularly. Makoto lies down, looking at his ceiling, warm and full and pensive, drifting through his thoughts.

Haru's already left, should probably be on the train by now, had promised to give back the shirt he'd borrowed when they met again. They'd agreed that they'd meet again Thursday, after both their classes were over -- Haru had practice, but there was a solid hour or so in between that and the rest of his classes that day, or so he had said. Other days they were just too busy -- Makoto had the group project to work on, and things were finally picking up in his major classes, and for Haru, there were competitions that he had to practice seriously for coming up in the next few months.

When he'd left, Makoto had wanted to walk with him to the station, but Haru had given him a look and told him he'd be fine, and something had told Makoto that Haru had wanted some space, so he had let it go with a cheerful goodbye, see you later.

...Truth be told, he hadn't minded too much when Haru had said not to walk with him, because he had kind of wanted to think himself.

It's no surprise, or at least, it shouldn't be but, things are just... _Different_ in Tokyo. Seeing Haru, hanging out with him like they had in Iwatobi, it had struck him almost painfully as a reminder that Tokyo _wasn't_ Iwatobi, that it was someplace new, where things changed, felt indefinite in comparison to their seaside town. That their friendship wasn't the same in how it existed now, even though the heart of it stayed true, there were physical signs of the change all over, from the lack of clothes at each other's places to a different sidewalk, a different route home for the both of them. That Haru had different friends(well, acquaintances) that Makoto had never met on the swim team he wasn't on, that he'd talk about his practices that Makoto hadn't been in, would never see.

It's ridiculous to feel the way he feels now, he presses a hand over his chest and tries to ease the feeling out. It reminds him of how he was as a child, back when he'd ran off and stood, ankles deep in the ocean and thought nothing, had felt nothing but a strange kind of emptiness, hopeless.

(He's frustrated with himself, for feeling like this yet again. For not being able to reach above this feeling, every time, Haru had always pulled him out, had always made him feel like himself again.

It's not Haru's fault. It's not anyone's fault but his own.)

He sits up, staring into space. He shouldn't feel like this now.

(Loneliness, possessiveness, weakness, all surrounding him, like the ocean deep, pulling him down. All these feelings, circling around him, around how he feels for Haru, even though he knows they have to change, that they won't always be so close, that it doesn't mean the end of their entire relationship if they drift apart, but, he aches, aches thinking about what he'll lose to time, aches when he thinks that he's still learned nothing, is still too weak to be on his own.)

The store down the street, the little grocery, he thinks, they're hiring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> contrary to what is probably popular belief, I have not forgotten about this fic. I just ended up trying(and failing, haha) to do nanoreno in the midst of exam time, which, thinking back, probably wasn't a good idea. 
> 
> Luckily, with the OVA that came out and the movie that's to come out, I remembered this, and then remembered whoops, no update in who knows how long, and then I finished this bit and wrote a key scene so I'd have something to work towards. Hopefully the next update is a lot sooner than this one is, but, that's just a hope for now.


	7. people

Despite the burn that's beginning to rise in his body, he swims another lap, takes a hard turn and pushes, paying no mind to anything but the water and his rival, he can sense his competition in the next lane getting closer and closer, nearing the edges of his shoulders.

_Stroke._

_One more._

He slips between the space the water gives him and reaches as far as he can go, and then further, farther ahead, the wall clearly in his sight. They're right at his shoulders, reaching just as far as he is -- he puts his mind to just reaching out, moving.

He hits the wall first, but it's a split second moment -- the slap of hands against tile breaks his focus, along with the person holding the timer saying, "It's Nanase's win!"

"Nice race." Haruka looks at the hand being held out to him, from the lane over, reaches out and shakes it as manner dictates before looking up at his face.

It's one of his upperclassmen, and if Haruka remembers the introductions done before the race right, his name is Kugo Ryouichi, and his specialty is actually butterfly.

When he looks, he's bizarrely reminded of Sousuke, despite the fact that his upperclassman looks nothing like him -- he's tall, but he's got an entirely different face, and an entirely different feeling.

"Thanks." He takes a breath, then adds, "You too."

"Hardly. If a freshman can beat me, I've really got to pick up the pace."

"Kugo-senpai, you know, Nanase is one of the fastest freshman freestyle swimmers."

Haruka looks up towards the voice of the guy with the timer and searches his head for his name. He had introduced himself too, right before they had started the race, but at that point, Haruka had been itching to finally get into the water and hadn't payed any real attention to him.

He comes up with Akiyama...Something. It doesn't really matter so long as he has the surname, he decides, letting his mind drift.

He's a freshman too, on the same level as Haruka, but in a different stroke, he doesn't remember which -- there are far more freshman than seniors in the program, he himself included in a mass of freestyle swimmers. He's surprised that Akiyama even remembers his name, though he had introduced himself at the beginning of the race, he had only said his name once, and quick -- it wasn't really necessary, he felt, to spend such a long time on introductions.

"That so..." Kugo turns towards him, giving him a glance. "You try swimming against Yukio yet?"

Haruka has no idea who he's talking about. Kugo seems to pick up on this, he points towards a group of people on the other side of the pool doing their own races and says, "That guy, medium height, got a tan, he's one of the top freestyle guys here. Otani Yukio."

When he looks, he thinks he sees which one he's talking about, but he can't really tell from the distance, and in all honesty, doesn't really care either way. The fastest person here could shift at any moment -- the scoreboards had the top times listed per each stroke, and they were all split seconds away from each other.

"Not yet," Is what he answers, and Kugo seems to take that in a different way than he'd meant. He grins like Haruka has said something funny, but before he can say anything more, a coach is coming towards them, yelling at them to stop chatting and start swimming.

Fine by him. He slips back into the water and starts to practice again, Akiyama in the next lane this time, he clears his mind and focuses on the water, on _free._

* * *

Haruka hates the locker room after practice. It's crowded and noisy, and it has an odd smell, even though it's cleaned regularly. The showers are always full unless he gets out early or late, and there's always so many people that it's impossible to go a moment without someone bumping into his shoulder or arm or body in general.

He misses the peace of the Iwatobi locker room -- it had been small, but he had never ran into anyone, unless Nagisa was running around. There had never been anything too annoying either, there had only been easygoing noise, never the chaos of dozens of conversations piled atop each other like here. He had been able to think, when he wanted to, had been able to cool down without having someone or other break him out of his thoughts. And there had always been an open shower that he could stand at for hours -- though Makoto never really let him do that.

Thinking about it, he frowns a little. He was deprived of an experience, thanks to Makoto. If he had known this was what would happen, he would have fought him more on it.

Someone elbows him on accident, apologizing in the same breath, and his thoughts shift back towards the present.

He usually stays an hour or two after practice, just to enjoy the pool, but he can't do that today. They're only allowed to stay after practice for three days of the week, the other three, there are swim classes held for kids and adults an hour or two after practice, and they have to clean up and get things setup beforehand. That, and practice is only six days a week, on Sundays it's usually open to the public all day and crowded as a result.

He gets why, but it still annoys him. He does want to swim on Sundays, even with all the practice, there's a difference between being in the pool and swimming for himself versus being in the pool and swimming for times.

"Nanase-kun, can I talk to you?"

 _No_ , he thinks, but doesn't say.

That's Natsume's voice, Natsume Kyoji, Haruka knows it because he never seems to stop talking. He had singled out Haruka the very first day, with no explanation, and Haruka can't figure out why, either.

Haruka wishes he had an answer, because the guy just never seemed to shut his mouth unless he had to, and it was really bothersome to deal with -- no matter how he responded, or didn't respond, Natsume would go on.

"...What is it?"

"Your form is pretty as always, you know? But have you ever tried something more technical? Like, you know, your kicks are like, a couple seconds off sometimes, I really think you'd benefit, shave off seconds if you could get it perfect, you know? I mean it's pretty hard and I totally haven't gotten it down either, but I'm working on it too, Otani-senpai's been giving me some tips, do you know Otani-senpai? He's one of the top freestyle swimmers here, was first in the last like, prefecture competition, I think? He's really good, honest, you should talk to him, I think you'd get along pretty well. He's all about that whole 'feel the water' thing that you like."

Haruka just nods, half listening. Natsume goes on.

"Anyways, besides that, are you free this weekend after practice? Some of the other guys and I are going on a group date, and like-"

"--Pass." He tugs on his shirt and shoves his towel into his bag.

"Aw, come on, Nanase! Aren't you interested in love? Living your college life? Loosen up a little! The girls are really cute, I guarantee it, and all types--"

He ignores him. His bag vibrates and he digs for his phone, wondering who it is.

"Oh- Do you have someone already? I thought you were single, Nanase-kun! I wouldn't have asked you if I had known you were dating someone!"

"I'm not." He finds it, opens a message up from Nagisa, a picture of him with Rei and Gou in the background yelling about something.

_Haruuuuuuu-chaaaaaaan Rei-chan and Gou-chan are fighting over training regimens AGAIN I can't do this_

"You're not what? Single? Or dating someone? Either way, come on, Nanase-kun! It's just one night! You might meet your special someone!"

"Not interested."

"Nanase-kun!"

He texts Nagisa back, _push them into the pool_ , then heads out the door, Natsume wailing at his back. The guy always does things like that, he invites Haruka to every little thing that comes up, and it's really annoying, most of the time. The only good time so far, and the only time he had went with him anywhere, was when he had asked him to go to a seafood place, and that had been a letdown too -- everywhere Natsume went, he invited girls, and the whole atmosphere was something Haruka really didn't like to deal with.

"Natsume-kun on your back again, Nanase-san?"

"Hm." Someone falls into step with him.

"He really doesn't like to give up, huh. You try telling him to shut up?"

"He doesn't no matter what I say. I've given up."

"That's true. Ah, I'm not bothering you, am I?"

"Not really." Haruka shrugs, shifting his bag a little.

"That's good. What do you think we'll do in class?"

He's about to shrug again when he catches a familiar head of brown hair ahead of him and, for some reason, walks a little faster so he catches it before it turns out of his sight.

"Huh, who- Haru!" When he taps his shoulder, Makoto turns around and smiles when he sees him, teeth showing. "Hi!"

"Makoto." He smiles back before he can help it.

"Is this near your class? I just had to come over here to drop something off for a friend-- Ah, and you are..?"

It's then that Haruka remembers he was technically speaking to someone before he spotted Makoto, and feels a little guilty for just forgetting them like that.

"Yukihara Yuuma." Yukihara smiles an easygoing smile. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Tachibana Makoto." Makoto smiles again, this one isn't as wide as when he saw Haruka, but it's genuine nonetheless. "Anyways, I've got to go, so I'll see you later, okay Haru?"

"Yeah. See you." Makoto waves once before turning down the hall. Haruka watches him go.

"A friend?" Yukihara asks, "You guys seemed close."

"Mmhmm." Haruka doesn't elaborate, doesn't really know how to, exactly, and prefers to not explain anyways. He and Makoto are what they are.

The air around Yukihara seems to get a little strained, Haruka senses it, though he doesn't know why. It feels like he wants to ask him something, but when Haruka gives him a questioning look, he just smiles and shrugs, and Haruka doesn't push it.

"He seems like a pretty nice guy." Is all he says, and Haruka snorts. Why is that everyone's first impression of Makoto?

(Though, he supposes, they aren't completely wrong, but, when Haruka thinks of Makoto, kind is -- there are more words than he can keep up with, to describe him.

Something about that particular thought sends a funny flutter through his stomach. He stops thinking about it.)

"He's--" Usually, he'd add 'a busybody' or something of the like, but, the words get caught up, held back by something he's not sure about. Instead he pauses, opts for a shrug, settles on, "--Kind of."

They reach their class then, and Yukihara is the type to take lecture seriously, so Haruka settles into the seat next to him and tries his best not to look out the windows, past the words on the projector screen into daydreams of clear water and crystal.

* * *

_they finally made up!! gou-chan got her way again but rei-chan actually won part of the battle this time!!! so exciting!!!_

The train back to his apartment is crowded, and he shifts, phone in hand, typing as quickly as one hand can.

_good_

Nagisa may complain that he doesn't write long replies, but at least Haruka does try to remember to reply now, as opposed to before. He's not that fond of it, unless someone is reminding him where he needs to be or telling him where they are, texting is a pain, but lately he's been working on it. He's been working on a lot of things, since he got to Tokyo, but especially staying in touch. Now that they're all in different places, it's harder, but it's worth the effort, most of the time, to know if everyone is doing all right.

He stares at his phone, thinking. In Iwatobi, after the swim club had started again, days had passed by with energy passing around him, always making contact, but in Tokyo, it's almost the opposite. It's noisy all the time, but some days, he finds there wasn't anything that he really payed any attention to, nothing that he really noticed, nothing that bothered him in any way, nothing that made contact. Days in Tokyo sometimes passed in a quiet way different from Iwatobi, one that wasn't bad necessarily, but it was a way he wasn't used to. And like that, the energy from when he was in Iwatobi seemed to be missing, a strange feeling after being surrounded by it for so long. Keeping in touch though, gave a similar feeling, words over text, photos, emails, the occasional phone call, all of it had vague likeness to the same energy in Iwatobi, and that was enough to keep him sending something, at least.

It's then he remembers that he has an email from Rin that he hasn't responded to yet and opens it up on his phone. The first paragraph is something about Australian swimming practice, and Lori and Russell, about Australia in general, there are a few strange bits in English that Haruka skims over, unable to understand. The next is more swimming specific, he gives his times down to the smallest millisecond, boasting and complaining about the strain and the excitement. Haruka rolls his eyes, but keeps in mind that Rin has bested him again, though not by much.

The last paragraph though, is more personal and awkwardly typed, with stilted wording. He starts off by mentioning that Gou sends him updates about the Iwatobi club, and then says Nitori sends him some on the state of the Samezuka, and that he kind of misses running a club, in a way. There's a solid number of sentences about Sousuke, all worded in a strange kind of way, but what Haruka picks up, with a little concern, is that Sousuke hasn't responded very often or with much.

_If you hear from him somehow, tell him to talk to me._

And then there's a bit about Makoto, asking if Haruka meets up with him properly. The way he writes it makes Haruka frown, makes it seem like Rin thinks he's unreliable in that regard.

_You guys still the same as ever? Even in uni?_

His stop comes up and he shuffles out of the train, scrolling through the mail, trying to see when it ends.

The last little bit of Rin's email is just questions, followed by the standard ending of his emails to Haruka, _Don't forget to reply with actual sentences._

He's almost at his apartment. He'll respond after he's had a bath, and a meal, and with that thought, he closes his phone and puts his mind towards what he's going to have for dinner. Mackerel would be preferred, though the mackerel here isn't usually as fresh tasting compared to Iwatobi. However, it is better than no mackerel at all, even if he has to add in something from the 'suggested', but really 'required', list of foods to eat from the swim program.

He wonders if Makoto is properly eating the mackerel they bought. He'll have to ask when they meet tomorrow. He better be, for all that they bought, he should be fine.

His hands stop at the keyhole of his apartment, thoughts piling together.

...He's a little worried if he's eating properly. Makoto can do a lot of things, but cooking has always been a weakness of his -- he tends to get distracted easily, and he doesn't always realize when something is cooked or uncooked until it's too late, and he's used to his mother's cooking, or Haruka's own. He's never had any real need to learn how to cook, and it doesn't come naturally to him, he just doesn't have any inclination towards it. He had looked a little thinner, if Haruka thinks about it, though that could just be because he hasn't been swimming recently, he was the type to lose and gain muscle pretty fast, Haruka remembers vague tidbits of a conversation they'd all had, back in Iwatobi.

He frowns, shaking his head slightly. Why should he worry about Makoto like this -- he's persistent, so he'll manage something eventually. Probably.

He pushes those thoughts back, combing through them for something else to think about. Worrying is useless. Makoto has been fine so far, and he'll continue to be.

Swimming. They should go swimming. He tries to think if Makoto's seen their school pool more than once, if he's ever gone in it. He can't remember a time when he has, unless he's gone on his own, or to the smaller one that's just for leisure and open to all students.

He's sure Makoto misses swimming. It's something his gut tells him, without having to even think about it, he's sure Makoto would give him a sunny smile if he suggested it to him, would light up at the idea of going swimming.

The thought moves his hands forward, he unlocks his apartment and steps in, dropping his bag onto the ground and heading to the kitchen.

(He's not aware of it, not at all, and it'll fade once he starts making dinner -- but a soft smile comes across his face, thinking about Makoto's response.)

* * *

Makoto comes running from the corridor and skids to a stop in front of Haruka, panting.

"Sorry, sorry! The lecture just kept going on and on...The professor didn't notice the time."

"It's okay." Haruka holds out a bag. "These are yours."

"Ah, thanks." He takes it and stuffs it into his backpack. Haruka shuffles, looking at the clock on the wall. There's still time before his class starts, time he's not sure what to do with, now that he's given Makoto his things back.

"Oh, Haru, you wouldn't like what my professor said earlier." Makoto laughs, giggles really, "He said he hates fish because of the smell, and doesn't know how anyone can stand it."

"You don't need a professor like that." He answers, and Makoto laughs again.

"Ah, I wish we had more time, but I've really got to go soon. The project is almost due, but Tanaka is kind of slacking, and I've got to go to- Oh!"

He gives Makoto a questioning look when he pauses mid-sentence, wondering what he just remembered.

"Ah, no, I just realized, I forgot to tell you! I got a part-time job! It's the grocery store we went to before -- they hired me." He smiles a small, nervous smile. "I hope it goes okay."

"Why a part-time job...?" He knows Makoto's parents are paying for his school fees, have a fund for him stowed in a bank account somewhere. His parents are doing the same, as far as he's aware, plus, he's on a scholarship anyways, so there isn't much he actually needs to spend money on.

"Well, I just..." He pauses, scratching the back of his head. "...Felt like it, I guess? I mean, Ren and Ran will probably go to college too, and I feel bad since coming here was kinda expensive, so..."

There's something about the way Makoto says it that makes him feel like he's not telling the whole truth, but before he can question him more, Makoto looks back at the clock behind him and gets away, saying he really needs to go.

Haruka watches him go, frustration edging around inside him. He's not sure why, is the real issue, and he starts walking towards his class, trying to figure out why it feels like something is creeping under his skin. There's no way to tell if Makoto was telling the whole truth then or not, aside from intuition, but something just felt...Off. His reasons had seemed sound enough, and Haruka knew the Tachibanas hadn't suddenly come into trouble -- if that was the case, Ren and Ran would have told him, probably. They usually told him things like that. And Makoto wouldn't have been able to hide something like that from him, even if he wanted to, it'd show on his face the moment they met. But something hadn't...Pieced together right, in a way. It was something Makoto did, left out parts that he thought would trouble others.

Haruka snorts. The real trouble was that it was hard to figure out what those other parts were, and usually just led to more complications in the end.

This sensation, like the floor slowly dropping out from under him, like sinking -- it's familiar, but not in a good way. Something about this bothers him more than it should, but he doesn't know what.

(Something is changing, though he doesn't know what, and he doesn't like it at all.)

His phone buzzes. He checks it, more for the distraction than anything else, but the feeling goes when he sees the text on his screen, Makoto asking if he's free tomorrow.

He is, but he has an idea, one that might make him understand better -- the water has always helped, with things like this.

_come to my practice tomorrow. bring your swimsuit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha oh geez  
> I've picked this up again and it may take forever but I do promise I'll finish this fic. There's just so much going on in this mini universe I've created and it doesn't help that I just keep adding to the OC pile without meaning to, but Tokyo is a very busy place, and this fic is really part romance part coming of age at this point that...it just...everything keeps expanding  
> but I promise! I will finish it! Eventually!


	8. burn

The bleachers rattle with noise, metal and chatter, the shouts of coaches, organized chaos.

It's refreshing, both alien and familiar, and Makoto looks around while sitting on the bleachers, marveling. The room is massive, with two large pools, sets of bleachers on both sides, small groups of people dotting them at the moment, and large windows, pool equipment on the far end away from the doors.

He's been in here before, of course, when he and Haru had been looking around campus before school had started, they had gone in here. Haru had almost started swimming then and there, he remembers with fond exasperation. But he hasn't really set foot in here since then, and he's never been here while practice was in session, either. He hadn't really known he was allowed, even though in hindsight, it should have been obvious -- now that he knows for sure though, maybe he'll come here on the days where Haru has practice and he has time between his classes. It's nice being here, even though the bleachers are hard and kind of uncomfortable, the atmosphere reminds him a lot of the swim clubs at Iwatobi and Samezuka put together. 

A shrill whistle breaks his thoughts, and his attention returns to the swimmers. It looks like practice is almost over, the coaches calling them in to talk before letting them go back, doing the last timed laps and exercises for the day. His eyes stray over the people doing backstroke, a wistful feeling coming over him; he hasn't swam in a while, hasn't had the time, and he's already lost quite a bit of muscle as a result. He really should try to go swimming more often, at least in the school's other pool, the recreational one that's far more shallow and smaller. Though, compared to these pools, that idea almost seems unappealing. 

He glances at the lanes where he last saw Haru and smiles when he sees that he's right in the middle of a race, a crowd of people watching. Haru's form is easy to catch, once you see it, you know it immediately. It's always attractive to look at, Makoto knows it well, since childhood, Haru's form has always had a particular quality that's impossible to miss. It's like his natural environment, when he's swimming you can't help but feel that was where he belonged all along.

At the turn though, he finds himself watching both Haru and the person in the lane to the right of him, there's something about the way they swim that reminds him of Haru -- it's just a feeling, but he's certain that person is like Haru, in tune with the water in a way that not many people are. And he's winning, by some margin, Makoto watches with wide eyes as they create a gap, swim ahead of Haru and to the wall with a surprising speed that looks effortless. It shouldn't be so startling, Haru's lost before, and it's natural that he's not the fastest here, but -- it's still strange, seeing Haru come in last, right at the edges of the person coming in before him, and with quite a distance between him and first.

They're too far away to hear, but Makoto sees one of them offer Haru a high five, and there's a lot of noise coming from that direction. He hopes Haru gets along with them, he's been getting better at that since last year, but he's still pretty prickly sometimes.

"Hey, excuse me -- have you ever swam before? In a high school competition?"

All of a sudden, his view is blocked by a mass of bleached hair, which is partially dripping water onto his pants. Makoto shifts, and the guy looks down before exclaiming, "Whoa, sorry. Totally forgot my hair was still dripping."

"It's fine." He smiles, trying to remember if he's seen him before. "Uhm, you are...?"

"I'm Seto Hiroyuki. I swim backstroke and you looked kinda familiar -- sorry if I got it wrong though."

Makoto blinks, glances at the pools and realizes that, while he had been watching Haru swim, other people had been going in and out of the locker room. It seems like a lot of people had stayed back to watch the race, but now they're getting out of the pool in droves, it's already far emptier then it had been a few moments ago.

"Well, I actually did swim in highschool." He says with a smile, and Seto grins.

"Yeah, I knew it! I don't forget faces, and you were...Third? Or something? I barely beat you." He pauses, a thoughtful look on his face that borders comical, "You're...uh..."

"Tachibana Makoto. And uhm, it was somewhere around there..." Truth be told, he doesn't exactly remember which place he'd gotten, just that it'd been fairly close. It had been a while ago, after all, and it hadn't been first, that much was all he knew for sure. At that point, he'd already known he wasn't suited for competitive swimming, by the end of that race, he'd been sure of it. 

"You were pretty good though. You wanna join the team?" Seto grins, "We're always open to guys who can backstroke well, and you've got a killer physique -- Oh, I don't mean that in a weird way or anything, just, you know."

"Uh, thanks, but I'm-" He hesitates to say 'done with swimming', because he's not, not at all, but, "-done with competitive swimming, for now."

"Aw, really? Man, but--"

"--Makoto."

Haru calls, standing right in front of bleachers, and Makoto hops down the steps to the rail with an apologetic smile towards Seto.

"What is it?"

"Come down." Haru gestures towards the locker rooms. "You can go in."

"Can I really? Isn't that for team members only..?"

"It's fine." He's insistent, but Makoto shifts, uncertain until Seto comes around.

"He's right, it's fine! You'd fit right in anyways." He claps him once on the back, hard, Makoto tries his best not to wince and catches Haru narrowing his eyes.

"Well, if you're both sure..."

"Come on." Haru says, and Makoto gives in, shuffling awkwardly through the bleachers until he gets to the stairs, Seto hot on his trail.

"Yeah, just try swimming in these pools! Maybe they'll change your mind  -- aw, shit, I gotta go to class." Seto slaps him on the back again, with the same strength as before, and Makoto nearly falls off the stairs. "Come again sometime -- even if it's casual, racing against you was pretty fun in high school."

Makoto smiles, but he's guiltily relieved when Seto runs ahead of him, down and out of the building. He had seemed nice enough, but not exactly easy to be with, and where he'd slapped him really had stung.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Haru head towards the locker rooms, and Makoto follows from the other side, towards the door where people are getting out. He slips between the people leaving, doing his best not to bump into anyone while moving forward.

He makes it inside with no trouble, glances around and finds Haru sitting on one of the benches with an expectant look.

"Hurry up."

"Geez, I just got in here, Haru!" He says that, but he laughs while he does. Haru seems impatient, staring at him, and it's contagious, Makoto undresses quickly, feeling eager to be in a pool again. It's a kind of funny feeling, even though he knows it well, being so excited about getting to swim. He wonders if Haru always feels like this, and that's why he dives in every body of water he can find.

_But still, he should have some sense!_

The minute he's down to his swimsuit, Haru shoves his clothes into his locker, closes it, and starts to walk out.

"Haru, what about my bag?!"

He pouts when he turns around, it doesn't show on his face completely, but Makoto knows the look well, he's sulking a bit. Haru walks back, opens the locker, lets Makoto push both his backpack and his swim bag in, and closes it again with a huff. Makoto can't help but laugh, just a tiny one, but Haru hears him and frowns, turning his head and walking out the door, leaving him behind. Makoto follows, and before he passes through the doors there's a moment of anticipation, his heart pounds for just a few beats before he passes through, back into the bright lights of the indoor pool, but on the other side.

"Wow..."

He can't help his awe, the pools had looked impressive from the bleachers, but standing in front of them, he can feel just how huge they are, and the depth. Haru is waiting near the edge of one of the pools, the one without solid lane ropes, and Makoto hurries to join him, steps light but full of anticipation. The moment he gets close enough, Haru gets onto one of the starting boards, looking at him, and Makoto nods in understanding and takes the one next to him.

When Haru dives in, Makoto positions himself and dives in the same way -- it's not quite what he's used to, but he still remembers the basics of the dive, and when he hits the water there's that flash of panic before the serenity, he pops out of the surface.

"It's cold!" Is the first thing out of his mouth when he breaks through the surface, "Haru, you didn't warn me about that!"

He doubts Haru even hears him, he's already doing a lap. Makoto wonders where he gets the energy right after practice to swim like that. He supposes that this is different, after all, swimming for times was more stressful than swimming for fun, and when it came to Haru, he probably had energy set aside just for that.

He treads water, trying to get used to the temperature, edges back towards the starting block so he can do backstroke properly. It's been forever since he's done this, it feels like; his hands wrap around the steel, the sound in the background fades out, and he pushes himself back, diving into the water again into a proper backstroke.

It has been a long time, his body feels a little awkward before sinking into the familiar motion, and then he's swimming again. The ceiling windows show a little of the starting dusk, still mostly blue, and in his heart, there's a sudden peace.

He had missed this. It was odd to realize, almost ironic in a way, but he'd been swimming his whole life, had both loved and feared the water for so long that going without had just felt odd. And he can sense Haru too, in this vast pool, he's reminded of why he wants to teach, wants to share this sensation.

He does a quick back and forth, just from side to side of the pool. He feels energized after, watches the other swimmers while catching his breath, heat under his skin.

Haru swims towards him and Makoto grins when he comes up from under the water, says, "Haru, thank you so much! I can't believe how much I missed this...!"

Haru nods, smiles back, eyes soft and glittering the way they do when he's the happiest.

(Makoto loves that look, honestly, even when it comes up at the worst times -- like at fountains, or in stores with water tanks -- it's--)

Something in his gut twists, and he turns, a little flushed. It's probably because he swam such a quick lap, he'd been so excited that he'd gone all out without even noticing.

"But I'm really out of shape, haha. I mean, it figures, since I haven't been swimming, but...I should really try to do this more often."

"You can come after practice." Haru says, Makoto looks back to him, "I'll give you the times."

"Ah, yeah, that'd be great...But I've still got school, and my part time job now, you know? There's so much to do..." Makoto sighs, "I don't know if I can find enough time..."

"You can." Haru looks at him with that straightforward stare, "You should swim."

"Well..." He really does want to. "All right. If I have time, I'll come."

Haru seems satisfied with that, pulls back and starts to swim again, and Makoto watches with a fond smile before going back to swimming himself, immersing himself in the moment.

(He wonders, in the corner of his mind, if it's all right that he's accepted the offer. It seems like he's relying on Haru once again, but at the same time, swimming is different, is special. Swimming is something he wants to do with Haru, it's when they swim together that he feels they're the closest, somehow, even if they aren't speaking, the water connects them, it's when he swims that he understands Haru the most, deep in his heart. Swimming with him brings a certain feeling to his heart that can't be replaced or replicated by anything or anyone, and it's something that he wants to try and show, try and share, that's why he's here in Tokyo, after all.

_It's meaningless without you._

His own words come back to him. It's different now, in a way, but...Makoto smiles wryly, cutting his thoughts off and pushing himself to the limit instead, stroke after stroke cutting through and away.)

* * *

"Ugh, I'm going to be sore tomorrow...We sure swam a lot. Are you going to be okay, Haru?"

"I'll be fine," He tugs on his shirt, shaking his head. "after a bath."

"Of course..." Go figure that Haru would think like that. "Do you want to get dinner?"

"Yeah."

With that, they leave, out into the quad, the light of the street and the still open library bright against the dark.

"Where should we eat? The place we went last time was nice...Do you want to try somewhere new though? Or should we go there again?"

Haru shrugs, and Makoto sighs. He's fine with anything, seems to be the idea, and Makoto goes through their options. There's the ramen shop, though slightly farther, it's still on the way to the station, and then there's the restaurant they stopped at the last time, which had been good. There was also a good number of stores he hadn't been in yet, one in particular comes to mind when he thinks on it.

"Do you mind beef bowls?" Someone had told him about a really cheap, but really good, place to get them, he thinks it might have been Tanaka -- he really liked food in general -- but he's not sure. It could have been Kaori, the girl in his nutrition class who had said she really liked finding cheap-but-good spots, but he can't remember exactly when he heard it. Either way, if it was as good as they had said he'd bring it up to both of them, and then whoever hadn't told him would get to know.

Haru gives him a mixed look, sort of bland, and Makoto considers.

"...They might have a fish option. But if you don't want beef, then we can always try somewhere else."

"...It's fine." Haru shrugs.

"Are you sure? If you don't--"

"It's fine." He answers more resolutely, then gives him a look that says 'lead the way'.

"Thanks, Haru." He says it because he feels a little bad, he knows Haru prefers fish over beef. Haru doesn't say anything, but he acknowledges him anyways, a little huff of exasperation.

He looks for the sign, a little glowing square with a steaming bowl, he'd been told it was hard to miss. And it is, he finds it near immediately, after a few minutes of walking, it's a sign that sticks out from the sidewalk, hanging from a pole. He opens the door and walks in, a blast of cool air against him before the strong smell of beef and sauce, rice. There are people scattered around the store's tables, small groups eating together and chatting.

He turns to Haru. "Someone told me it was really cheap here, but with good food, so I wanted to try it."

"Hm." Haru looks over the board, probably for some kind of seafood, and Makoto looks at the special, written on a chalkboard to the side. It really is cheap, the prices are remarkably low save for a few select items, and he's glad for his wallet.

When they manage to order -- Haru had found a seafood option, though he'd muttered something about it not being mackerel -- Makoto sinks into a chair and says, "Ah, I'm really sore now..."

"You need to practice more." Haru says, sitting in the chair across the small table, and Makoto whines. "Haru, it's been a long time..."

He just smiles, to which Makoto smiles back in turn. Their food comes surprisingly quickly, the portions are larger than he'd thought they'd be, and when he takes a bite it's near heavenly. Even Haru looks surprised, he glances down at the bowl and then takes another bite, trying to figure it out.

"This is really good, don't you think?"

"Yeah." He eats with a vigor a little unusual for him, and Makoto does the same. He hadn't realized how hungry he was, but this was really hitting the spot. The meat was thinly sliced but full of flavor, mixed will with whatever sauce they used, the rice was well cooked, fluffy and fresh tasting, and the vegetables diced on top really kept everything together. He definitely had to remember to say his thanks. Now though, he eats, and their table is quiet save for the sound of chopsticks against bowls, quick sips of water.

It's familiar, the way they sit across from each other and eat, and Makoto is thrown back to when he and Haru used to eat together at his house, when Haru made ricebowls with just a filet of mackerel on top and nothing else. Not even a single side dish, just mackerel and salt and warm rice, the sound of the sea and occasional banter.

For a moment, he's struck with the heavy sensation of wanting to go home. Wanting to go back.

It passes. But it shakes him, just a split moment of longing, a split second of sadness.

* * *

Full and content, Makoto stands in the crowded train with Haru and looks out the windows at the passing walls. The underground trains don't really have any great scenery or anything, but there's something kind of relaxing just seeing the flash of lights go by and knowing that you're going somewhere. Haru is standing next to him, seeming sleepy, he's staring out the window with a glazed over kind of look. It's sort of funny, how tired Haru gets once it gets truly dark, ever since they were kids, Haru's always nodded off when the night comes into full swing. He's good at getting up early, so it makes sense, but...Makoto just finds it entertaining anyways. It doesn't happen all the time, certainly, sometimes Haru can stay awake with ease, but a lot of the time Makoto finds himself laughing as he watches Haru partially nod off, head bobbing before he snaps back up and awake.

He can't help but tease him, thinking about it, says, "Haru, don't fall asleep."

Haru snipes back at him. "You're the one who fell asleep the last time."

He can't really counter that, so he chuckles instead. "I guess that's true."

There's quiet again, flashes of yellow lights streaking against the dark as the train goes on. It's peaceful, the tinny noise from someone's headphones and the light tapping noises of people on their phones. A little crowded, he supposes, but it's not really a rush time, so at least they aren't jam-packed.

"...Makoto."

"Hm? What?"

Haru's got a face like he's thinking, Makoto glances down at him curiously, but in the end he seems to change his mind. Whatever he was going to say, he doesn't, he frowns instead and says, "Nevermind."

"Are you sure?"

Nothing but a nod, and Makoto shrugs and lets it go.

"Oh, you know, I've got my first real shift tomorrow."

"For your part-time job?"

"Yeah, at the grocery. They said I'll just stock stuff, but..."

"You'll be fine."

"I hope so!"

He'd had a part-time job in high school, just for a short while, but that had been something different than working at a grocery. It's new, and a little exciting, a little terrifying.

_Kind of like coming here, huh._

He keeps the thought to himself but smiles, feeling sheepish. He's survived Tokyo so far, so a new part-time job shouldn't be too difficult at all, comparing the two, he almost feels silly for worrying at all.

Haru's stop comes, and he pauses before getting off, at least, Makoto thinks he does, he could have just been waiting for there to be more space to get out the doors. But he thinks Haru paused, he had looked at him a certain way before averting his eyes and saying goodbye, a nod before walking out the doors.

Briefly, Makoto wonders what he wanted to say, but in the end, he doesn't dwell on it. There's a lot on his mind already, and Haru hadn't seemed to want to talk about it -- if it was important enough, Makoto's sure that now Haru would at least try to bring it up. Probably.

Well, maybe not, now that he thinks about it, but...

...He's overthinking things again. He's got to stop that, but his hands end up digging through his bag for his phone anyways, he shoots him a quick message, _was something on your mind? you looked thoughtful!_

It puts him at ease, at least this way, he's tried addressing it. It didn't seem like much, but with Haru, it was sometimes hard to tell, and things built up -- he always kept things buried deep until they overflowed or sunk, forgotten. Still, Makoto hopes that Haru will get used to talking more about what he feels, even though he understands him when he doesn't say anything, there are times when it's better to get things out into the open. He knows that now, knows that sometimes quiet understanding isn't quite enough.

Haru doesn't respond though, and so Makoto sighs, gets off on his stop and resolves to let it go. He was probably just worrying too much again. And Haru could text him later, if he felt like it.

When he gets home, he takes a quick shower and falls into his bed, hoping he won't be too tired when he wakes up. It's best to be bright and early when starting a new job, after all.

( _This is good_ , he thinks, this is right, this is what he should do. A part time job, occupying his time with other things -- college is already making him busy enough, but a job is a good experience, and there's less time for thoughts like before, those thoughts from days ago. Less time for those feelings to surface up and threaten to overtake him, less time for the weak part of himself to be needy and cry out for attention.

He can't let that happen anymore. It's already been going away for a while now, it's only slivers of what it used to be, the fears that used to overtake his thoughts -- he just has to manage the rest of it by himself.

Haru has his own life to live, here in Tokyo, and so does he, and he has to learn how to handle these things on his own, without Haru reassuring him whenever it comes up. He has to learn how to stop relying on Haru for so many things, has to carry his own weight so that he doesn't crush him on accident. That's the last thing he'd want, he can't keep being spoiled like this, even if Haru says it's all right, he doesn't want to be more stress on his plate.

This, he stares out into space in the dark, is his resolve, this is what he came here for. To change into someone stronger than who he used to be. Who he is now.)

He sleeps.

* * *

_He dreams of colorful skies and the beach, of creaking wooden floors that are familiar under his feet, of an old worn table and the clink of glass and ceramic, of stairs that go nowhere with a single torii. Of white birds, herons, seagulls, sandpipers, all skittering around, taking great strides past him, opening their wings._ _Water pools around his ankles._

_He looks up the endless staircase, at the torii that seems so far away, at the birds that rest on the higher steps, who seem as if they're waiting for him._

_His foot rises. The water, when he touches the very first stair, begins to rise as well, and when both his feet rest firmly atop the first translucent step, there's no floor where there used to be. But that's all right. He can only move forward._

_Behind him is fading darkness, the sound of night waves against the beach, a steady chime, a sliding door, echoing further and further away._

_He leaves the sound of home behind and takes another step._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, another round of ~2000 - ~3000 words, and we're finally going somewhere. Finally. Though, haha, well, I'll keep the rest of my plans for this ridiculously long fic a secret, but Haru and Makoto are going to have a hell of a time.
> 
> I think I say the same thing on every note I leave, but I hope I'll update sooner next time, I really don't mean to let it drag on so long, but I just...Life, and this fic has so much to cover with the both of them. But I'm sure you're all tired of hearing that, so, I hoped you enjoyed it, and thanks for sticking with me for so long here.


	9. steady

Frustrating.

Haruka surfaces with a frown. Third out of five, this time, between a mix of freshman and sophomore swimmers.

He doesn't really care about times, and that's the truth, but since he chose to do this, he should do better. Should feel the water more, deeper, understand it in a way that lets him swim to the fullest.

(It frustrates him that so many other people seem to understand it better, seem to be even more in tune. How, he wants to know, how did so many of them understand, when so little had before this?

This isn't pleasant, or familiar, this heavy sensation, with a taste that he can't quite name but knows he doesn't like.)

It doesn't help that he still hasn't bested Rin's time yet, though he's getting closer, shaving off milliseconds. But it's not enough yet, and that coach is still getting on his back for being too loose, and then too stiff.

What does that mean, really? It's not an explanation he understands, in part because the coach never explains it well.

_He's not even the main coach_ , he thinks with a deeper frown.

"Nanase-kun, you ok? You look pretty put out, you know?"

And then there's this too, Natsume's nagging, a constant that he should be used to by now, but is still annoying every time. Haruka pushes himself out of the pool.

"I'm fine."

"You sure? I mean, third is pretty good! It's only been a little while since we all started -- and the sophomores were the ones that beat you, yeah? You're doing like, great, seriously!"

He doesn't answer, looks at the side of the pool where the older members are doing their races instead. One particular form catches his eye, they cut through the water with efficiency, and yet Haruka can feel it, just by watching, they truly understand the water in a way that Haruka feels deep in his bones.

"Oh, are you looking at Otani-senpai? Did you like, talk to him yet? I think you'd definitely get along with him." Natsume rambles on, and Haruka feels like he's heard this before, maybe, but he can't help but focus on the figure in the water, a bullet-straight line right up to the wall. It's like they're in their own world, right until they hit the tile, Haruka feels it while he watches, a shiver that creeps down his spine. Until that loud slap against the tile, the world is limited to that one lane, that one person, and that last, final stroke.

* * *

He's almost out the locker room door when Natsume comes at him and blocks his way out, pulling an easygoing looking person with him.

"Hey, Nanase-kun, this is Otani-senpai! The one we were talking about, that you were watching!"

Haruka frowns when he says that. Natsume is too chatty for his, and anyone else's, good.

"You were talking about me?" Otani laughs, and Natsume looks at him, completely starry-eyed. It almost reminds Haruka of Nagisa, for a moment, but Nagisa was rarely so obnoxious. Maybe more like that one person, that silver haired underclassman that Rin had been friends with -- _Nitori_ , he thinks, Ai-something, the adoration on Natsume's face reminds Haruka distinctly of him at that moment.

"Nanase-kun was totally hooked by your swimming, senpai!"

"That so?" Otani gives him a smile. Haruka just nods, but he can't help the frown on his face. Natsume is giving him all the wrong ideas, but it's too much trouble to try and sort them out now.

"Yeah, he was really watching you closely! You swim the same stroke -- and oh, right, he's the one I was telling you about! With the whole like, 'feel the water' thing!"

"Oh, really?"

There's something about the way Otani looks at him then that really annoys Haruka. It's almost challenging, but not quite; there's something more complicated mixed in. An expression without warmth, analytical at heart and cold under the surface, it sends a strange chill down Haruka's spine. It's as if he's almost looking down on him.

"Excuse me."

He mutters, brushing past Otani and Natsume.

"Eh- Nanase-kun-! Wait a minute-!"

He doesn't bother answering, just speeds his way to the doors and out, something dark twisting and turning in his chest.

This didn't happen before, in Iwatobi. This almost never happened, and when it did at all, Makoto--

\--His thoughts unsettle him more. He keeps walking.

Competitions had, in high school, been rarely high tension. While other people in other lanes had often tried to make conversation, when he didn't respond, they usually left him alone. He wasn't competitive in the way Rin was, in the way people expected him to be -- he didn't care, had been his stance, about winning, so long as he swam the way he wanted to. Learning new things about swimming was fine, but the only reason he wanted to win was because it proved something--

\--He doesn't like this. Something feels weird. His chest twists and turns inside, almost painfully.

He looks up. Makoto usually--

\--That's right. He's not here right now. Haruka frowns, grits his teeth and tries to organize his thoughts.

This is strange. He doesn't know this. This feeling, this impatience, it feels all wrong.

(This is change. If this is change, Haruka wants nothing of it.

He thinks about the sea, the sand, the salt in the air, the sound of bells hanging from homes nearby, stone steps, wooden floors, Makoto--)

He's sitting down before he realizes it, takes a moment to breathe when the bench's metal hits his back and jolts him out of whatever came over him.

It was odd that Makoto had wanted a part-time job, he thinks. He didn't need it. Doesn't need it, he slouches forward, bag halfway in his lap.

He doesn't know why he's thinking like this. It reminds him of when he was in middle school. Feels the same as that time in middle school. But neither of them were the same as then, and he knows this.

So what is this?

(It doesn't make sense. It's frustrating. He doesn't understand. 

His thoughts go miles per minute, winding around him, all sorts of things he can't keep up with.

He had found it odd when Makoto said he was getting a part-time job. But it hadn't bothered him like this when he'd mentioned it, he hadn't felt so heavy and weak. Now, something dark and sticky claws him down, like seaweed wrapping around his ankles, the salt of the sea burning his throat. Unpleasant. Unfamiliar. Ridiculous.)

He stares at the ground.

When was the last time he had spoken to Makoto? For a while. A real conversation, not just a few words here and there.

Makoto has always been good at dragging him into conversations, prompting him to speak back -- he'd never really minded his silence either, had often just rattled on instead of waiting for an answer or expecting one, but the way he asked questions and phrased things always had the particular trait of getting Haruka to answer back, eventually. He does it on purpose, Haruka thinks, it's just something he'd always do to try and make things go his way.

When was the last time?

Was it really that day he'd come to swim practice? Had that really been the last time?

Their classes don't intersect much, if at all. Makoto hasn't been to another practice since the last one, saying he's been busy with work and school.

His hands wander towards the zipper of his bag. He opens it up and fishes his phone out, going through his texts. The last one from Makoto is still the first one on the list, the most recent, but it's from a few days ago.

_Tanaka got me to join a club, haha. It's a food club, he says, to find the best food in the city. It's a really small club...But it's fun like that, too!_

He hadn't responded, when he first saw the message. He puts his phone back.

(It doesn't matter, he thinks, that Makoto's not here.

He wasn't always around in Iwatobi either, had often gone off for a few hours, sometimes left Haruka alone for a few days, just to give him space. He understood. It wasn't as if they were together for the full day, each day. He wrinkles his nose at the thought.

But a week, two weeks, is different. A week without really seeing his face, or having him ramble on about something, without his presence beside him, Haruka feels -- feels strange. Like he doesn't know where exactly he's supposed to be, what steps he's supposed to take.

Uncertain. Off balance.

He hasn't felt like this in a long time.)

He leans back, taking a deep breath. The burn in his arms and legs is starting to set in, the heat from a busy swim practice that he usually ignores until he can go home and soak, ignoring the complaints that he's the tenant that uses all the hot water.

* * *

Literature isn't his favorite thing. Haruka can read and remember, but all the texts he's ever had to read for school aside from a few have been dull or difficult to understand, and having to write papers on them doubled the troublesomeness of it all.

Tonight especially, his mind wanders. He's calmer now, having soaked in the bath until the water turned cold, but that doesn't stop him from thinking about earlier, the uncertainty, the confusion that had struck him from every side, the sense of panic that had come over him and followed him all the way home.

Thinking back on it now, the sensation had actually been familiar, in a vague way. Haruka tries to remember where, pinpoints maybe middle school, but the memories from then are hazy. Makoto had gotten further away, at some point, at least, Haruka thinks that's accurate, but the memories blur together until they're impossible to separate. Middle school had been busy, and the memories that stand out the most from then, Haruka only really remembers how they feel.

The past doesn't matter though, here. It's better to focus on what's in front of him.

...Or rather, that's how he wants to feel. Tokyo makes the past seem even more indistinct, as if the rush of the city blows away what he's known and replaces it with lights and chatter. The sound of cars passing by has replaced the sound of the sea crashing, and the darkness of a city that never turns off becomes the night he's familiar with. Smog, and a sky that's less bright, and without the smell of salt and sand. Everything he's known isn't here, like the wind, it carries it all away.

He curls inward, letting the book drop from his hands onto the floor.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he'll see Makoto in the courtyard, and they'll talk, and he'll tell him to come to swim practice again.

(He hopes he'll see him, anyways. Lately, Makoto's been at the library, or trying to finish assignments -- Haruka can't quite recall the last time they just stood there and talked.)

He gets up to turn off the light. Turns it off and goes back to his bed, lying down, wrapping himself in the thin sheet he's started using since the weather gotten warmer.

* * *

 

When he wakes, he wakes with a tight sensation in his throat, like crying, almost.

It's strange, the surge of emotion that hits him before it disappears, his dreams fading away from his grasp without ever really making themselves known. He shakes his head and takes a deep breath, sitting upright.

Breakfast. His morning bath, and then getting dressed, and then the train.

It's when he's on the train that he thinks about Makoto, hands tightening into small fists, something like excitement biting at his ankles before receding without his notice. He shakes it off, finding it odd, but it lingers in his chest, curling around his body in the way a cat might, weaving in and out without letting him catch, stop it.

He shifts his attention to the traincar, trying not to think about it. His classes for today, morning practice after meeting in the courtyard, anything but the weird shiver of anticipation that tries to make itself known.

"Nanase, is that you?"

His name, but it's not necessarily so uncommon that they're not speaking to someone else. It doesn't sound like someone he knows anyways.

"Nanase, oi, you hear me?" Something taps his shoulder, and he turns.

The face is familiar, but it still takes him a moment to remember the name.

"Kugo..." He's forgetting something, "...Senpai."

He got it right, judging by his reaction.

"So you are the right Nanase. I was worried that I'd gotten it wrong, heh."

Haruka nods, but doesn't say anything. This type of person, he thinks, isn't hard to deal with, per say, but isn't exactly easy either.

Briefly, Makoto comes to mind. Usually he'd get their attention, hold a conversation with them and take Haruka out of the spotlight, but he's not here right now and besides, Haruka didn't need Makoto to do that. Not at all.

"Nanase, you all right?"

_Focus._

"I'm fine." His face feels like it's doing something he doesn't want it to do.

"If you say so." Kugo doesn't press it. "I didn't know you took this train. You live in those scholarship apartments?"

"...Yeah."

"Aha, my friend lives there too. You ever seen him around? Tall, kinda tan, a little awkward?"

_A lot of people are like that,_ Haruka thinks, frowning. Nonetheless, he answers, "I don't think so."

"Figures. He never really goes out, after all. Unless it's about school, he holes up in there. But he's really smart, you know."

He sounds proud, talking about him. Haruka finds the whole thing somewhat troublesome. He's not interested, after all, in hearing about someone he doesn't even know, and from someone he hardly knows at that.

"...And he's awkward as hell around girls, anyone really..."

He's still talking about him?

"...But that makes him a pretty nice guy, too."

Right as he's about to tune him out, something about that last sentence strikes him, and Haruka turns his head, trying to control his curiosity.

"He's pretty good looking, but he doesn't really flaunt it or anything. He's a," His expression is softer, "really good guy, honestly."

There's a beat of silence. Haruka spends it examining the look on his senpai's face, thinking about the tone of his voice -- it had been different, in those last sentences.

Kugo seems to return to the moment at hand, and exclaims a little too loudly, "But he's definitely a shut in. The only reason he's tan is because I get him out of his apartment sometimes, which is why I'm on this train, this morning. I went over to make sure he hadn't knocked himself out studying."

He's flustered. Haruka can hazard a guess as to why, when he thinks about his previous tone of voice, his expression, even though he doesn't really understand, it brings to mind passages from novels and scenes from anime that he's watched with Ran and Ren, and he says it simply.

"I see."

Kugo glances at him, but he can't read his face, Haruka guesses, and chooses to change the subject.

"Heh, uh, yeah. So uh, you got a good friend like that? Can't really imagine a guy like you being all that friendly with anyone though."

The veiled insult sort of irritates him, but he shrugs it off. "Not...Really."

"Ah yeah, I figured. You're not really that kinda guy, after all."  
  
It's irritating, hearing the subtext. Makoto comes to mind, which is a little more irritating, seeing as he'd been trying not to think about him.

"I do have a friend though."

"Wha- Really? I mean," Kugo recomposes himself, "That's good. What's the guy like? Similar to you? Can't really see it..."

_This guy isn't good under pressure, is he_. Despite being aware of that, it still annoys Haruka, hearing him fumble with unnecessary commentary.

"He's Makoto." Haruka says, and Kugo looks at him in confusion, and he elaborates. "We met when we were young. I don't know how to describe him."

"Is...Is he an amazing guy or something?"

He actually looks like he'd buy it if Haruka told him yes.

"...No." That's not right, but it's not wrong, either. "He's...Hardworking, I guess."

Kugo looks like he wants to say something, but holds it in. Haruka continues.

"Tall," He mutters, feeling awkward, "and clumsy, sometimes. He swims backstroke."

"Whoa, nice. I still can't always swim a straight line, doing back." He shuffles, tension easing out in a way that's obvious. "He in the team?"

"No."

"Just a hobby?"

"We used to swim together in the same club. In high school."

"Hm, hm." He nods. "Anything else about him? Sounds like a good guy. Is he quiet?"

"He's noisy." He shrugs, "He talks a lot. To everyone. He's likeable." According to others.

This whole conversation brings back that anticipation, that feeling that he'd been trying to stave off. It's embarrassing too, speaking like this, and he resolves not to say anything more.

"Noisy? I was under the impression you didn't like that kinda guy, if the way you talk to Natsume is any indication."

"He's not like that." Haruka says, distaste in his voice.

Kugo laughs. "Yeah?"

"He's better than that." He says it before he registers it. Kugo laughs again.

"Well, I bet-"

The train stops, then, and the conversation is cut short. Haruka hurries to the doors, trying to escape, and Kugo follows him out, step for step.

"Hey, the pool is that way."

Haruka tries not to click his tongue. "I'm meeting someone."

"Then I'll see you there." Kugo pats him on the back. "Don't skip."

Like he'd miss going into the water.

"Right." He says instead, and Kugo grins.

He walks as quickly as possible towards the courtyard, partially just to get away, but also because the tension, that thing that bites at his back crawls up his legs and makes him move.

Makoto is there. He walks faster.

"Makoto."

"Haru, hey." He turns to face him.

He looks tired, despite the smile on his face. He's about to say so when another head pops up from next to Makoto and smiles at him, and Haruka can't hold the irritation that comes across his face as that one friend of Makoto's, Udo Kei-something, appears.

"Nanase-kun, it's been a while." He doesn't miss the point on the suffix, and the irritation grows.

"Udo."

"How have you been?" He says, but Haruka doesn't miss the small smirk that passes on his face before his expression returns to a blander smile.

"Fine." He steps closer to Makoto.

"Ahh, we've been busy, right, Tachibana?"

It really irritates him, the way Udo says we.

"Really." Makoto sighs, "You wouldn't believe all the work I've had to do lately, Haru! All of a sudden, I had to do so many essays, and study for tests..."

"But," And just when Haruka had forgotten his presence, Udo makes himself known again, "There's a reward coming soon."

Makoto looks at him curiously, like he doesn't know what Udo is refering to. Haruka gives him a suspicious glance, and Udo grins. It is, in a way, reminiscent of Rin's grin when he's about to say something as a challenge.

"The party, Tachibana! You know, the one you promised to go to?"

"The...Oh! That's right!" He hits his palm with the side of his fist, then turns to Haruka.

"There's a party happening in a week. Tanaka and Udo invited me, so I couldn't really say no...Do you," He smiles, but his voice is hesitant, "want to come?"

The word 'no' is right at the tip of his tongue, but Udo gives him a smug look and throws an arm around Makoto, and then the word stays stuck in his mouth.

It's irritating, the way Udo looks at him, as if fully expecting him to say no. 

"Tachibana, don't push him. If everything you've said about him is true, he's not really the party type, right?"

Haruka hears the challenge in his voice. Sees it in the sly grin that Udo gives him when Makoto isn't looking, only to drop it when Makoto turns, both in agreement but flustered at having been found out.

(The way he tossed his arm around Makoto so casually. The way he looks ready to take Makoto away. The fact that he completely expects Haruka to say no. Everything.)

"I'll go." He says, and Udo looks surprised, but then looks even more amused. Makoto looks at him, incredulous.

"Really? Thank goodness!" The smile on his face is bright. "I was a little nervous about going by myself..."

"What, so me and Tanaka don't count for anything?"

"That's not what I meant!" He says, a little frantic, waving his arms. "And it's almost time for class, and Haru, you have practice today, right? You should go! I'll see you later."

Haruka nods, and waves when Makoto does, but frowns hard as he watches Udo keep his arm slung around Makoto until Makoto brushes him off, trying to hustle.

(Something isn't right. Something is turning in his chest.

He wants to speak to him more.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha ha oh my god
> 
> Here's hoping that this fic finally gets done before the next year because jesus christ. The longer I'm on the fringe of the fandom the harder it is to write consistent characters. I just got into Haikyuu too, which means that disaster is afoot. 
> 
> Anyways, there's a number of things going on here, and while I'm going to try my best to maintain quality, I've got to admit that I'm getting super impatient with myself and this fic. I kind of went into this without considering all the thin lines that I've been drawing, and it's definitely showing(to me, anyways). I'm going to hopefully finish this and then really get to work on a webcomic idea I've had for a while. This fic is probably going to push 40000 words, given how I can get, but it depends on if I can convince myself to not rush things(and avoid cliches....which may be unavoidable? I really dug myself into a hole here...)
> 
> It's been a while, but for anyone still following this fic or just finding it, happy new year, and I hope you'll stick with me for just a little longer. Let's work hard.


	10. pace

When they had said party, Makoto had imagined something small and simple, with maybe a little alcohol and a little chaos, but nothing that was too hard to handle, all things considered. Nerve-wracking, maybe, but nothing he couldn't make his way through with some effort. Some people he wouldn't know, some people he'd only kind of know, but getting to know people wasn't so hard, and if anything, he'd have Tanaka and Udo to rely on. And Haru would be there, which always ended up making him feel better about just about anything. 

He had not been expected this, standing in the corner watching as a mass of people he knows and doesn't know dance on the floor of a club he hadn't realized they would be going to. Nobody had told him that they were going to go out into the city, no one had said they were going somewhere like this; the flashing lights make his eyes hurt in the dim, and the music is so loud he can feel it vibrate down his spine.

"This is...Really...Loud, huh?" He whispers, and Haru agrees. He's standing next to him, looking irritated.

Inwardly, he can't help but feel terrible for inviting Haru at all, but had he known it was going to be this way, he wouldn't have agreed to come in the first place. 

It had started out okay. He had gone to pick up Haru and then the both of them had had gone to an address that Udo gave him, an apartment that seemed relatively small. They had went in, the place already crowded but not unbearably so, and for half an hour he had simply chatted with people. It was small talk that was fun and easygoing, all while keeping an eye on Haru, to make sure he was enjoying himself at least a little bit. Tanaka and Udo had been helpful, in that respect, occupying Haru's time whether he wanted them to or not, Tanaka especially. Makoto had seen him from the corner of his eye making a dozen gestures all at once, with Haru looking at him in confusion, but his interest had been there.

Thinking about it, he wonders what Tanaka had talked about that had captured Haru's interest. It could have been anything, really, Tanaka had this way of talking that could make anyone interested in anything he was saying, with enough effort. If he tried hard enough, he could probably make interesting conversation out of nothing but math problems. 

That aside though, Makoto continues through his mental timeline.

They had all gone out for dinner, and then karaoke, and that was all right -- Makoto had embarrassed himself, picking anime songs, but they were all he really remembered thanks to weekends spent watching with Ren and Ran, and the muffled sound from next door. That part had gone off well, he'd even gotten Haru to, begrudgingly, sing with him for a song, the one that was the theme song for the cute aquatic game he'd liked. That had gotten them a standing ovation, and Haru had been embarrassed and glared at him and refused to sing again, but when Makoto had asked him quietly if he was really bothered, he had just shook his head.

That had been good. Those two hours had been good, had been great, actually, had made Makoto feel warm inside, and so he hadn't noticed, when they'd left the karaoke place, where they were headed until they were already there.

And well, now...Here they were. It's not the seediest club, at least they card people for alcohol, to Tanaka's complaint, but it's definitely not a place he'd think about going to on his own.

It's a new experience, he tries to think. An at-least-once kind of thing.

A light strobes into his eyes and he squints, shifting down. Haru looks at him, unimpressed. Their eyes meet.

Even in the weird light of this club, where darkness sticks to the corners, he thinks he can see Haru's eyes clearly, bright spots, and it's...Different.

It's been a while, being this close, blue bright against the dark.

His heart jumps. 

It's like...Something changes, in the moment, out of nothing at all. 

He's suddenly he's aware of the whispers from people sitting at the bar, the tables, the quiet conversation of people who want to mix and the reason why people come out to places like this, and he stands straight up, turning his head away. His heart is banging, similar to the beat, and it's...This isn't right.

(It's not new. Something tells him he's felt this before about Haru, but it's not right.

He doesn't know why it's not right, but. It just. Isn't.)

It's too loud, all of a sudden, and too much is going on -- he's frozen stiff on the spot without a reason, anxiety creeping up his fingers, his toes.

Haru looks at him, curious. Makoto's sure he's picked up that something is wrong.

"Ha, uhm," He's fumbling, and he can't really tell why. His tongue feels heavy all of a sudden. The words he wanted to say leave him, and he stands there, body suddenly unwilling to listen to him, all tight and nervous.

"Let's leave." Haru says, and he snaps back too quickly, straightening up, recoil stretching his spine.

"Wh- Okay!"

The change relieves him. He's thankful that Haru always brushes over things when he sees discomfort, though Makoto doesn't doubt that he just wanted to leave in the first place.

They exit into warm air, but compared to the heat in the club, it's not really that bad. Haru turns and starts walking, and Makoto follows, sending a text to Udo that he and Haru are going. It's not polite to just leave, and it gives him something else to think about.

He tries not to think about that feeling from before. Something tells him it isn't good.

* * *

The next train they need doesn't come their way for a half an hour, unfortunately, and so he and Haru lean against the wall and wait.

He's quiet because he can't shake the weird feeling in his gut, and when he tries to talk to Haru it rears back up. So he doesn't speak, he stares at the ground instead, trying not to think.

"Are you okay?" Haru asks, and Makoto puts on a smile and nods.

"Yeah, just kind of winded. It was really something in there."

"I'm never going again." Haru mutters, and Makoto laughs, though he does agree with the sentiment. He'll have to tell Udo that he doesn't really like that sort of thing, and stick to going to restaurants with him and Tanaka instead.

"Haha, I think so too. I don't think I liked it that much." He nudges Haru, ignoring the way his stomach tightens at the contact, because it shouldn't be like this. It never has been. "Though karaoke was fun."

Haru turns pink, his head turning away as he grumbles, and something in Makoto throbs.

"I'm going to go the bathroom." He hopes his voice is coming out right. He turns away so Haru can't see his face, thinking, panicking.

Haru nods. "If the train comes, I'm getting on it."

"Hey, Haru, that's..." He sighs, but he's amused too, or he would be, if it weren't for the weird sense of urgency telling him he has to leave.

He flees to the bathroom and takes a stall, trying to think.

Maybe it's because it's been a while. He has been busy, balancing school and a part time job and everything else. Maybe it's because he's never been with Haru somewhere like that, and his nerves have gotten to him.

(That really isn't the case, and he can feel it.)

He can't tell what this is. He really can't.

(He can.)

It's just been a while. They never go places like that, he'd never really associated 'getting to know people' with Haru, he'd never thought about meeting people for _that purpose_ in Iwatobi and the change is just causing strange thoughts, he had always been busy, he was just too caught up in Haru and it had gave him odd thoughts--

\--And it all sounds like an excuse, and Makoto knows it. 

(But it can't be true, because Haru is his best friend, and while Makoto knows he loves him, it's not supposed to be like _this_ \--)

* * *

Someone is with Haru when he comes out of the bathroom. They glance at him curiously and he looks back the same way, unsure of who they are.

"Yukihara." They say, holding out a hand, and Makoto thinks he's seen him before. "We've only met once. You're..."

"Tachibana. Tachibana Makoto," And then it comes back to him, mid-handshake, "Oh! Right right, Yukihara-san, I'm sorry for forgetting your name!"

"It's fine, it's fine." He waves it off, and then turns to Haru. "Sorry to bother you. I'll be going now."

His tone of voice is kind of funny, and Makoto tries to figure out why, but he can't think of any reason. Maybe that's just his natural tone of voice, it's not that he has any real previous experience to work with.

Either way, he leaves before Makoto can talk to him, and when he asks Haru what they talked about, Haru refuses to say.

(He ignores everything. The pit in his stomach. The knot in his chest. The pull, end to end, that strings him tighter and tighter until the pressure almost breaks him open.)

(It isn't supposed to be like this.)

 _It isn't supposed to be like this, it isn't supposed to be like this, it isn't supposed to be like this_ , the whole ride home, that's all he can think. That's all he lets himself think, afraid, and he's never felt so alone, standing in a packed train on a Saturday night.

Haru is quiet next to him, but he hardly notices, too caught up in his thoughts and afraid that Haru is going to see right through him, like he always does, and he'll ruin everything.

Why now?

* * *

He wakes up groggy, the sun blinding him through the little crack in his curtains. He's a little sticky, and briefly he thinks about needing to buy a fan, soon.

Yesterday comes to mind. He stares at the ceiling of his room.

He wants to call yesterday a fluke. He wants to be able to laugh it off and blame the atmosphere, and he wants to be able to look at Haru without the heavy feeling that's settling in his chest, familiar and yet not.

He wants to go home, where he'd never think like this.

(He'd wanted to change, but not like this.)

But instead he gets up and tries to make breakfast, succeeds at a simple egg and rice, and sits down at his table and thinks.

_What does this mean?_

A thousand things start running through his mind. What does this mean? Has he always been like this? When had it started? Is he interested in guys? Is it a phase? Is it only Haru?

He can't tell anyone.

He feels sick.

(He's ruined something so important.)

How is he supposed to talk to Haru now?

He lays his head down on the table and tries to take steady breaths, in and then out, one at a time. Just one thing at a time.

He's grateful he doesn't have work, for today, he hadn't been scheduled. He's not sure it would go well, right now.

He's supposed to do homework, but instead he sits down at his desk and works through his thoughts, what he can do.

He can't tell anyone. The idea of anyone's response is terrifying.

He can't let it slip.

And he can't talk to Haru too much.

He's already doing that though, deliberately, trying to ignore the ache of wanting to talk to him, and now it's just going to be a little harder, that's all. He can do that. He's been doing that, trying to ease himself out of his reliance on him, it can't be that much harder.

And Haru rarely contacts him first, so it's fine. It'll be fine. He'll get over it. If Haru doesn't contact him and he stays out of his way, there's no reason they need to talk much. Haru has competitions coming up. He'll be too busy to think about Makoto, and it'll be fine. Makoto can handle this. It's not impossible.

(He thinks he might have done it before, pushed it down.)

(He still feels like crying.)

* * *

It's surprisingly easy.

He texts Nagisa sometimes, and Rei when he asks for advice, and keeps in touch with Rin through emails that he never knows when he's going to get an answer to. He keeps going to different restaurants with Tanaka and Udo and the rest of the club that Tanaka has formed, sometimes with great finds, sometimes places that Makoto swears he'll never even think about again.

He does schoolwork, catches up on some books, plays games he'd meant to play ages ago while procrastinating, calls his family and doesn't talk about Haru unless he has to, thinks about swimming and doesn't.

Haru's swim team should be doing competitions, he thinks. He wonders if Haru's in any, but he doesn't ask, and he doesn't ask if he can come watch either. He stays away from the gym and meets Haru less in the morning, busy or not, excuses his absences by spending time studying or other things, oversleeping, reasons to be gone.

He goes to work, goes home, tries harder at cooking, manages to improve enough to make a basic fried rice, and then doesn't text Haru after, even though he gets through typing a message before he stops, thumb hovering over the send button before he puts his phone away and eats.

It's good.

(It's not the same.)

* * *

The break is coming, and he isn't sure if Haru is going to be free for it.

He really doesn't want to ask, but his mother had asked him to find out if Haru was coming home, and he couldn't say no.

_"He hasn't been answering my calls lately, and he doesn't talk as much when he does. Is he doing all right, Makoto? Do you know?"_

_"I think he's just really busy. His club and school takes a lot of time, you know?"_

He looks at his phone, contemplating, sucking in a breath.

It's been so long since they had a real conversation.

His phone buzzes and he jumps, tossing it up and catching it. The timing...

It's just Nagisa though, asking if he's coming back for break and insisting that he has to, and Haru too.

Makoto laughs a little. Of course it's not from Haru.

As he types out a reply, he gets another text, and checks midway through, and then one more. The first is Rei, asking the same thing as Nagisa, and the last is from Haru.

He opens it, trepidation in his chest.

_From: Haru_   
_Subject: no subject_

_Break?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, and painful, as is life.
> 
> College has started up for me and I am swamped, but I've made it a constant mental note to write this fic before writing anything new. Or at least, attempt to do so, so guilt comes down on me and I spend time on this.


End file.
